#Nine Inch Nails Live: And All That Could Have Been

[man-kills-everything]

Don't You

[frgmnthtr]

And All That Could Have Been (2002)

[sp00ky-p00ky]

Done packing! ✔️

I'm excited and ready to go 💕💜🥰

[sordidmusings]

Let Go and Grip Me Tighter

Moot request! Mihawk struggles with guilt from the nature of his fantasies about you and begins pulling away. You won't let that happen.

A/N: Omfg this one was cooking for awhile but it's finally ready. It starts with some angst (living without sex ed or resources on that causes Problems) but then there's like a lot of smut then a quick wind down with some aftercare! Has some “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails vibes 💀

Word Count: 9.3 k

Warnings: afab!reader, fem!reader, NSFW all over the place, dom!Mihawk, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, spanking, praise, degradation, biting, marking, rough treatment, claiming, prone bone, missionary, creampie, manhandling, established relationship, Mihawk is very deeply in love with you and struggles with wanting to be a strict dom, he gets condescending 👌🏻, Mihawk orders you around, miscommunication angst up front

@fanaticsnail thank you for your patient encouragement 🙏🏻🖤 so much love for you

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

More than anything else, Mihawk was certain that the depths of his guilt were vast enough to have the breadth of the seas shrink to a mere droplet in their stead. He loves you so, so much, but his mind has been tormenting with thoughts he feels unforgivable. It started small; his fantasies of you started to latch onto that whiny, pathetic moan you’d let out when he grabbed you a bit too hard. He began to imagine himself purposefully digging his hands into you to leave bruises there, which then turned to smacking handprints into your skin. The thought of your ass red and bouncing with each hit had him cumming faster than he’d like to admit the first time it played behind his eyelids.

He began to get used to those ideas and started to get a little more… creative.  What would your neck and shoulders look like littered in bruises and bite marks? Would your moans be as whiny and pathetic if he tied your hands and feet to the corners of the bed, leaving you with no option but to struggle and beg? Maybe he could just tie your hands behind your back and use his grip on the rope to pull you back to him harder on each thrust. Maybe he’d grab you and move you around as he liked, overpowering any attempts to move on your own and eating up the high-pitched whines from the force. He’d hold you down and fuck you until any unease became begging, and begging became “too much!”.

Mihawk felt a feral place in his heart burn every time he spit filthy words at you in his dreams. Tucked away in his nightly unconscious entanglements, he claimed you as his whore, his cocksleeve, his slutty little love. Many claims came and went but they were always possessive and you were always perfect, just as you were in his waking life. The heart that held such devoted and worshiping love for you ached at the idea of calling you such insults, but they set his cock aching just as greatly and he felt as if he was splitting in two.

How could he want to treat you in such a way? Mihawk loves you. He loves you and you love him and you always treat him with ceaseless care and support and he repays you by cumming to the thought of hurting you? Would you run from him if you found out? You knew the power he held; you’d helped him wash off the stains of those foolish enough to challenge him many times. Surely you would flee if you knew that the wielder of such power held ill intent towards you.

No - ill intent wasn’t right. He couldn’t hold ill intent towards you if he tried. So what was this then? He didn’t want to hurt you but he wanted you to enjoy being hurt by him. He wanted you at his whims as far as he could press before any real damage could happen. He wanted to come at you, teeth bared against your throat, and have you respond by offering your jugular. He wanted you to take pleasure in being moved and taken by his charge. That was it then - he wanted to own and control. To dominate. But how could he ask that of you if it required such beastly treatment?

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk’s hands on you have felt different. Normally, you could feel their comforting weight resting on your body or their firm press, born of the need to keep you held tight. You are still held but more by the will of gravity than Mihawk himself. Laying half draped over his body, as you are now, is one of your favorite ways to end the day. The unfamiliarity of his hands, though, will not let you find rest. Where is the sweet indulgence of fingers threading through your hair and scratching gently at your scalp? Where is the healing service of kneading fingertips releasing you from the aches of the day? Where is the steadfast protection of the grounding hold anchored to your hip?

In place of these daily devotions are the hesitant, whispering touches of a man you’ve never known. Your Mihawk has always been sure in his movements. That was certain from the very first touch - a tender grip on your fingers and lips at your knuckles, then a quick flip of his wrist so that lips could move to warm the inside of your wrist. Your Mihawk doesn’t know how to falter. He can wait and assess and test but none of that encompasses the way he shifts to shy away from your seeking touch. It happens incredibly slowly to hide from your notice, but you need his touch too much to overlook its retreat. Your body and heart take to it like roots to water, always reached out and ready to soak in the vitality it brings.

You lay and continue to wonder fruitlessly at the nature of the trailing fingertips moving from your shoulder to your elbow. The endless circling thoughts are wearing at you, and you snuggle your cheek further into his chest for comfort. At the feeling of his meager caress stuttering in response, you resolve to find and fix the problem immediately.

Lifting your head up, you seek Mihawk’s gaze. His head remains tilted away and his eyes remain shut despite the fact that he can definitely feel you staring at him. After giving him a few moments to do it on his own, you bring a hand to his chin and guide him to face you. You delicately trace the lines of his facial hair, which look extra sharp in the shadows cast by the warm lamplight. He opens his honey yellow eyes and circles them all around your face. He meets your gaze last.

“You’re hiding from me.” You state it as what you know it is; a fact.

“I do not hide-”

“Yes, you do,” you interrupt. “Every time you’re afraid to talk about something, you live in that head of yours.” You shift your hand to cradle his jaw, brushing your thumb lovingly across his cheek. “But, you’ve never pulled your presence from me too. You know we always figure it out, love. What has you like this?”

Mihawk closes his eyes again. Your answer is kept somewhere behind those lids. You wait for it to appear, but it seems less likely to happen with each passing second. 

“I miss you,” you whisper. The little warble that snuck into your voice twisted the pit in Mihawk’s chest. His eyes open to mirror the concern roiling in your own.

“I’m right here,” he says, finally using his hold to press your body into him. The gesture pleases you but not enough to distract you from the way his words weren’t reassuring; they were begging to be believed. You let him have some time to try and let his eyes speak to you when he could not. Deliberately deep and measured breaths set rhythm for the way his chest floats you like calm waves beneath a ship. Taking in his unspoken cues, you could only understand that he was putting in great effort to hold something back. The conflict you felt in him between the need to shield you and the need to comfort you set you on edge. What could he hold in himself that he thinks so catastrophic? What does he know that could cause you such harm?

“Mihawk, please,” you beg. Your plea works against you; his eyes and grip harden.

“No.” Mihawk maneuvers you off of himself and moves to get up. You chase right after him, trailing rumpled sheets behind you. He makes it two steps from your shared bed before you catch him, locking your arms around his waist. You burrow your face into the warm skin between his shoulder blades and press your body as close to him as you can, clinging desperately. He remains silent but his hands move to your wrists in warning.

“Don’t run from me,” you plead, throat tight to hold back the whimpers starting to build in your lungs. He’s never left you during an argument - he had said it’s because he couldn’t stand to leave you upset. This sudden change leaves you shaken, holding tight to him in the hope that he is still your greatest stability and comfort. He begins pulling your arms away. The distress you feel lets him.

Mihawk at least turns around to see the damage he has caused. You see his regret in wet eyes, bowed head, and caving shoulders. Contrition compels him to rub circles on the wrist he still holds and the affectionate gesture pulls the first tear from your eyes. He begins reaching to brush it away but instead pulls back, his hand curling into a fist at his side. In a quick burst of anger, you snatch that hand and push it to your face. You hold it there even after it opens to embrace your cheek, scared it’ll leave you again. Mihawk hates the tears wetting his thumb and the shakiness of your breath, feeling the weight of his guilt become unbearable in their stead. He shrinks into himself even further from the way your eyes have narrowed in accusation.

“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me with your problems?” You bite out at him. He can no longer look at you, choosing to gaze unseeing at the floor instead. 

“No,” he mumbles like a child facing the rage from authority.

“Then what is wrong?” You press, voice turning from vicious to exasperated. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I love you, Mihawk, that won’t change! And I can help-”

“No you can’t!” He roars, snapping his head back up to bare his teeth at you. “You can’t help me! Not with this.”

Wide wet eyes stare back at him, shaken of their fight. Your lips tremble around stuttering breaths and his own angry breath puffs out into the small space between you. They’re all you can hear while you try to process his anger and the way his fingers begin to sink onto your wrist and jaw like claws. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, trying to get things back under control. “I shouldn’t have pressed so hard when you weren’t ready.” Mihawk scrunches his eyes shut and bears his teeth again.

“No. You don’t understand,” he starts. A deep breath flushes his whole body and rattles him on the way out. He’s staring right into you again. “I want to hurt you.”

Confusion strikes you before fear has a chance. “What?”

Both of Mihawk's hands are now cradling your face, and the pressure of his fingertips betrays the controlling nature of his hold. He steps in close so your bodies just barely brush and he looms his head and shoulders into your space. His golden eyes burn molten, looking down on you.

“I want to hurt you,” MIhawk repeats, beginning to stalk forward to force you backwards. “I want to grip you ‘til you bruise, bite and leave marks.” You simply listen and follow as he speaks and the relief of releasing his fantasies has the confessions rushing out of him. “I want to force you down and fuck you so hard you scream.” Your calves hit the bed and you sit down on it when his hands continue leading you back. Your easy compliance has his mind blurry and spinning, now beyond his own will. 

“I want to control your breath.” One hand clamps down next to your neck, shoving you quickly onto your back. Mihawk’s thumb presses threateningly into the base of your throat, not enough to halt your breath but enough for your veins to pound back against it. “I want to bend you over and watch your flesh tremble and burn red while I strike you.” His knees spread your legs wide, before he lifts one knee onto the bed, forcing your leg up with him. “I want to tie you like a captive and fuck you while you’re bound and have to take it.” His other knee is on the bed, making your other leg open up for him too. He’s hovering over you, letting some of his weight bleed into the grip beside your neck before releasing it. The hand moves to dig into your upper arm. Mihawk crawls forward into the middle of the bed, using that grip and his shoving thighs to drag you with him. “I want to own and command you.” 

You have never felt so small and exposed and it’s sending an addictive thrill through you. Your heart is pumping bubbling adrenaline through your veins, most of it moving to boil between your hips. Looking up at the fierceness of Mihawk is bringing back temptations you had locked away long ago. Your hands move to fist into your own shirt, too unsure to touch him but needing to hold onto something.

Despite his rough grip, the way Mihawk bends down to brush his forehead against yours is reverent. “I want you to let me touch you however I want, fuck you until I’ve had my fill, until neither of us can move.” His eyes close and his hold softens and his nose nudges yours. His breath is soft against your lips, smelling sweetly of the wine you shared over dessert. His voice loses its power and creaks with defeat. “I want to do so many awful things to you, but you’re my love - my life.”

You tilt your chin up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Mihawk stays still, simply letting you mold your lips to his, until his resolve breaks and he’s lunging forward to kiss you ravenously. He’s in immediate control of the kiss, needing to take everything he can from you while you’re still willing to love him. His hand moves to the side of your head, helping guide you to follow his frantic movements. You’re immediately lost in the heat of his touch and tongue, relieved to receive his affections again. Needing to feel more of him, you brush your thighs against his, your skin sliding easily against his silk sleep pants. When your thighs make it over his hips and you feel the muscles of his sides tickling the insides of your knees, you hook your legs around him. He fights you when you try to pull him down.

“Dear heart,” Mihawk manages to say between tasting you, “I should not.”

“You should,” you gasp back against his lips. Your kissing has grown to match his in hunger, filling him with joy and guilt. Another light squeeze of your legs fails to bring him down to you. This time he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with conflict.

“I do not deserve-” You cut him off by using the strength of your legs to pull your hips up to meet his. The thin silk he wears does nothing to hide the shape and warmth of his hard cock. You earn a low moan from him when you grind against it. Trying not to fold to your temptations, Mihawk keeps on his hands and knees while you hang off of him.

“I want you,” you assert, “And you want me.” You grind along his whole length to emphasize your point. Your thighs burn with the effort, but the way his eyes flutter at the bliss makes it worth it. “And I-” you pause and swallow, stealing yourself. “I want all that too.”

“What?” Mihawk asks urgently. He grabs your chin, keeping you centered on him.

“I want all of that stuff too,” you say, letting yourself fall from him and back to the comfort of the mattress. He’s still staring at you with the unreadable, analytical face he usually saves for opponents, so you elaborate. “Your control. You own my heart, why not the rest of me?”

“And the harm?” he prompts bitterly. Not wanting him to pull away, you smooth your hands into his hair and massage at his scalp, trapping him to you in the gentlest way possible.

“That too,” you admit quietly. Your body flushes hot again, but this time with shame. “There were times when I would see your fierceness in battle and find myself more attracted than I should be. The first year we were together it was unbearable and I would fantasize about what it would be like to feel the force of your strength and will on me.”  Mihawk’s breath halts and his face slackens. His hand releases your chin to brush fingertips across your cheek in awe. “I’d dream of you throwing me around, commanding me, punishing me. I got myself to stop over time because wanting something like that? I mean, there must be something wrong with me.”

“Never,” Mihawk growls. “You’re perfect.”

He descends on you and all you know of the world shrinks down to only Mihawk. Grasping hands rove over the both of you, pulling at hair and clothes and flesh. This time his hips are chasing yours, lighting your nerves on fire at the pressure of his grinds sinking your hips into the mattress. Your canting moans are muffled by his lips and tongue, but he hears them all the same and feasts on them greedily. One of his hands finds its home at the back of your head, fisted into your hair. You let out a high whine when he pulls back and holds you still.

“You will tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Mihawk commands. Unable to speak with the way the head of his dick is teasing your clit, you nod your head. “Words,” he growls, tightening his grip on your hair.

“Yes, my lord!” you answer, half gasping, half moaning. The pull on your hair relents and his fingers massage your scalp, soothing it.

“And you will tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he continues, watching your face intently to make sure you’re truly hearing him and understanding what you’re agreeing to. He also needs to soak you in to make sure this is real, that you really want this. You focus in on the violent yellow of his eyes, taking in the seriousness and desperation you see in them.

“Yes, my lord,” you breathe out. 

His lips cheat you of your next breath, but you don’t have the will to care. Everything of yours is his anyway. You’re just relaxing into the kiss when he’s pulling away to sit up. 

“Get off the bed,” he orders. You only hesitate a moment before crawling your way to the foot of the bed and standing up from it. You turn to look at him for more direction, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt while you wait. The way his eyes roam over you, assessing you, does little for your nerves; you feel like an unprepared student. 

Mihawk turns and gets up from the side of the bed. He prowls over to you, taking his time to unsettle you further. The way his tall form slinks over to you treats you to a show of the shapes of his sloped muscles cutting lines across his body. His Adonis belt in particular catches your attention, on full display by the low rise of his pants. You shudder in anticipation when you follow those lines to the large bulge between them. It keeps your attention until he is stopped in front of you and you trail your gaze up to meet his neutral face. You know him well enough to notice the desire darkening his eyes. He leans his upper body forward, forcing you to crane your head back to maintain eye contact.

“Undress me.”

You fall to your knees, looking up at him while you sneak your fingers into his waistband. Slowly, you lower his pants down his thighs. You miss the way his cock bobs in front of your face when it’s freed, unable to look away from his eyes staring into your own. You let the pants fall when you reach his knees and place your hands on his warm thighs. Still looking to him, you begin smoothing your hands up his legs. Feeling emboldened by touching him, you look down to take in his length. While Mihawk may look unaffected, the truth shows in the flushed and leaking cock in front of you. A thick vein on the underside tempts you to lick it, but when you lean forward a punishing hand holds you by the hair. 

“I didn’t give you permission,” Mihawk warns. The way you look up at him with big contrite eyes has his cock twitching but does nothing to change his resolve.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” You get no response except his hand petting down your head and gently cupping your cheek. He leaves you waiting a few breaths while his palm warms your cheek and your eyes soften his.

“Undress yourself.”

Your hands drift slowly from his hips to the hem of your shirt. In a smooth motion you lift it over your head, only losing eye contact when there’s fabric between the two of you, and lay it on the floor next to you. Your thumbs hook into your underwear, holding their position while you stand up to rid yourself of them. Despite your nudity, his eyes stick to your own.

“Back on the bed.”

Mihawk watches you while you crawl onto the mattress, enraptured by the way your ass sways back and forth as you move. The teasing peaks he gets of your pussy as you move test his resolve to take his time commanding you before he sinks into you. When you get to the head of the bed he notices you hesitate, staying still on hands and knees before peeking over your shoulder for direction. The way you look to him, pleading for guidance, has his heart pounding and his mind running feral. He reels it in with a slow breath.

“On your back. You need to be able to look at me for now.” You follow his command, ending up propped on your elbows with your bent legs acting as a barrier between you two. Mihawk has seen you naked almost daily for a handful of years, but you find yourself feeling shy and exposed. This is a deep fantasy finally coming to fruition for the both of you, and what if the real you doesn’t measure up?

“Spread yourself.” You shiver at the command, absolutely dripping from the hunger rumbling in his voice. You look down to your knees and falter, worrying at being completely exposed to his voracious gaze.

“Precious,” he calls, bringing your eyes back up to him. His face is still stern but there is a touch of gentleness in his voice when he softly prompts, “Go on.”

Choosing to focus on your most beloved yellow to ground yourself, you slowly spread your legs apart. They end up in a wide v, still propped bent with your feet planted in the soft sheets. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. Mihawk takes his time admiring the curves of your spread legs before he can no longer keep his gaze from your exposed cunt. He admires those curves and lines too and is flooded with delicious memories of having his face stuffed there. Fresh heat washes from his chest to his cock, and he has to swallow from the way his mouth waters. 

Your previous worries leave you when you see how Mihawk looks at you. He’s a man possessed, taken and corrupted in the face of immeasurable riches. You see the men of myth, who scheme and steal under the noses of angry gods, in his face. That look of his snaps up to your face and you turn into prey. You love the way it has you feeling so alive.

Mihawk finally makes his way over to you. He takes his time, letting you feel each shift in the mattress from the weight of his limbs. It gives you time to feel smaller and smaller as he overtakes you, overwhelming you as his broad shoulders get higher and higher over your body, enclosing you between him and the bed. Strong arms plant themselves on each side of your head, caging you into his dark gaze. His handsome face, haloed by dark curls, looks striking in the dim lamplight, his sharp features casting shadows across pale skin. You can’t resist the call to reach up and caress him. 

“Did I say you could touch me yet?” Mihawk growls, snatching each of your hands from his face. The threat in his tone and the forceful grip squeezing your wrists has bright adrenalin bursting in your chest and tingling in your limbs. He presses your hands down in the sheets next to your hips and releases them as he tells you, “Lay on them.”

Hesitantly, you arch your back and clasp your hands together in the new gap. When you lower onto them, you scrunch your nose at the uncomfortable feeling of your knuckles rubbing into your spine. Mihawk notices and gives you a disapproving look. He places a spread hand on your stomach and presses down, making your knuckles and spine roll over each other. He keeps some pressure there; a reminder of your disobedience.

Your hands grip hard into each other when Mihawk finally lowers his hips flush to yours. The feeling of hot skin is such a relief to your frazzled nerves and pleading pussy. His dick fits perfectly within your folds, rubbing deliciously through them as he ruts against you. There’s no distracting pinch or catch; you’re wet enough to cover him and spread over any skin he touches. A shiver shakes up Mihawk’s spine at the feeling of you clenching around nothing against the base of his cock. He’s treated to the sweet sounds of your whimpers and moans, pulling especially delightful ones from you each time he angles to circle more firmly around your clit.

“Please, sir,” you whine, “I need you inside me.”

“Such a greedy whore,” Mihawk chides, tone so condescending it almost sounds bored. You whimper back to him, but he catches the way your hips twitch and press more firmly to him. He takes pity on you and gives in to his own needs to feel you around him.

Mihawk is big but it was never a problem because he enjoyed taking his time when pleasing you, so the prepping happened naturally by the time he was ready to make his way inside you. Today though, Mihawk finds himself overcome with the need to force you open when he shoves two fingers in and feels you clenching tight around them. He spreads those long fingers to press against your plush wet flesh and keeps pressing as he slides them back out. His fingers move to hold his cock, which is soaked from grinding into you and the precum he’d been uncontrollably leaking, and line him up with your entrance. He starts pushing into you immediately, groaning at how you clamp down tight in surprise. 

The way your breath hiccups as he keeps inching his way into you has his mind spinning. He bites into his cheek to keep himself from bottoming out in one brutal thrust; he wants to feel every flutter and twitch of your cunt and body as they try to accommodate him. He needs you to feel every second of him taking ownership of your body, needs you to feel how much more powerful he is. Wet fingers dig into the meat of your hip as he tries to hold himself back. You feel the sweet mix of the smooth slide of every ridge on his cock playing at your nerves and the burn of your muscles stretching almost too far. You surrender fully to your trust in him, releasing all tension from your muscles and all thoughts from your head. 

“Much better,” Mihawk breathes against your lips. He stares deep into your eyes and watches them become fully dilated and hazy. You stare right back and give him a lethargic smile for the praise. The rush of giving up control while he takes your body leaves your brain and body feeling like liquid. You almost move to touch him again, but his words are the only things still held in your mind.

Mihawk pulls back slowly, treasuring the way your body tries to suck him back in. You get halfway through an inhale before a quick thrust knocks all the air from your lungs. The satisfying clap of his hips on your ass ricochets through you. You get a chance to breathe when he stays deep in you and circles his hips to feel every inch and detail of your pulsing cunt. Overwhelmed, you whimper, “Mihawk-”

“Not my name,” he snaps. His hand flies up to your mouth and shoves two fingers in, pressing the taste of yourself into your tongue. You suck on them, looking up with apologetic eyes, hoping to placate him. It doesn’t work. “And to think I was giving you time to adjust.”

That’s all the warning you get before he sets a rough pace, each impact bouncing through your body, shaking your thighs, hips, and breasts. You shut your eyes against the onslaught, each nerve screaming its pleasure at you loudly. You feel unbearably full of Mihawk but also unable to feel enough of him. You need him in your hands, on your tongue, ringing in your ears, pulling you apart. The closest you can do now is tilt your hips up to feel him even deeper and offer more room for his hips to rub your skin at the end of each thrust.

When he feels your thighs squeeze tight to his waist, Mihawk falls to his elbows under the instinct to curl into you. With frenzied motions, he readjusts his forearms to be beside your chest, pressing your upper arms into your ribs. His hands clamp down on your shoulders, keeping you trapped against each pound of his thick cock into you. His claim on you flushes through your veins and seeps into your bones. Your mouth, now free, hangs open to pant and moan for him. His forehead presses to your temple so he can feel your breath deliver each sound directly to his ear, persuading him further and further from sanity. His lips hovering so close to you lets you hear his own harsh breath and hushed groans. 

“My lord, sir, please,” you beg, needing more from him but too lost to say how. You know he’ll figure out what you need, he’ll take care of you, push you as far as you can go before you snap and become pure pleasure. 

“Fuck, treasure,” Mihawk moans, hot breath tingling on your neck, “just be my good cocksleeve - lay there and take it.”

He switches his rhythm, starting to pull out slower to draw out his time in the grip of your cunt. Each push into you is still punishing, taking advantage of his curve to shove the head of his dick across your g spot. The steady hammering has pressure building between your hips quickly. “Sir -hah- I’m so -nngaaaah- ‘s so good I’m -hahnn- my lord -aah-” you continue babbling pleading nonsense to him, trying to let him know how close you are.

Mihawk can tell even without you senseless moaning; your thighs have begun to tremble and jump and you get impossibly tighter with each thrust and he’s sure he’s found heaven in your cunt. His face buries in your neck, sucking harshly at your delicate skin and savoring the light flavor of salt on his tongue. His teeth begin to come into play, worrying against little sections of your neck, mixing a sweet sting into the flurry of pleasure surging to your head. He feels you tip your hips away from him and wiggle in his grip, trying to hold off your orgasm so you can cum when he does and he hates it. 

“Don’t run from me,” he snarls, snapping his right hand to grip the back of your neck. You obey immediately, but sob out at the overwhelming pressure pulsing behind your clit. The sound has Mihawk’s balls pulling tight and his cock pulsing but he’s chasing your orgasm, not his. He wants to feel the violence of it being forced out of you. His left hand moves down your back, fingers dug deep into muscle the whole way, and covers your clasped hands with his own. Mihawk licks up the side of your neck to nibble your earlobe. His tone is biting when he taunts, “Cumming already little whore?” and you’re gone.

He manages to keep his pace through your orgasm, each press of his cock making another wave of bliss crash through you. High moans knock from you in time with his hips, but you're deaf to them from the buzzing between your ears. His cock twitches hard in the threat of release, and he bites down meanly into the meat of your shoulder to muscle his way through it. The feeling of you trapped beneath him, legs clinging to him in desperation while you cum is better than any of his fantasies have granted. Through your settling fog, you feel deep moans vibrating into your shoulder through Mihawk’s teeth.

“Thank you, sir,” you rasp, “feels so good.” Teeth release from your shoulder and thrusts become circling grinds.

“Ah but you were supposed to be making me feel good, weren’t you?” Mihawk chides. He licks his burning hot tongue over his bite mark, pleased with how deep the indents are.

“Sorry, my lord,” you whine pathetically, “I couldn’t -hahn- couldn’t help myself.”

Mihawk turns to nip at your jaw before hovering his face above yours. His piercing eyes narrow down at you as he mocks, “Oh, poor you.”

He’s detaching from you, getting up onto hands and knees, leaving you empty. Your eyes widen in panic and you almost reach for him. Instead, all you can do is whimper at him while he pulls your legs from around his waist and hope your sad eyes will entice him back. Mihawk takes them in with a twinge of remorse, but mostly they send arousal shooting through him. At first, he thought of rewarding you for keeping your hands still and letting your legs go limp while he maneuvered them, but he wanted to push you more first.

“Flip over. Chest down, ass up.”

You blink twice to process his words then get to work. Your movements are sluggish and sloppy, your muscles still recovering from your orgasm. Seeing how weak you’ve become from his touch has Mihawk resisting the urge to surge at you again. The sway of your movements causes your ass to wag in front of him and he’s glad you can’t see the way his jaw slackens at the sight. You look divine - no, more like sin incarnate. Your lax muscles cause your upper body to sag fully into the bed, making your ass arch obscenely high in the air. Your tired face is buried in your arms and the sheets. The display has his mouth watering and he can hardly tear his eyes away from your glistening pussy peeking out between your thighs.

“So perfect,” Mihawk purrs, reaching a hand out to touch you. You jump slightly at the first touch then relax into it, humming appreciatively. He massages his thumbs into the curve where your ass meets your thighs. When you ease into that touch, gently swaying with the oscillating pressure, he slides his large palms onto your skin. For a short while, he simply takes greedy handfuls of you, switching and shifting his grip so that every bit of your ass and hips have been squeezed. Your lax body continues to follow his hands as his lovely marionette.

“Since you’ve forgotten the one reason you’re in my bed, I’ll have to take my pleasure from your punishment instead,” Mihawk drawls. He wastes no time delivering the first smack onto the thickest part of your ass. You jolt with it even though it was barely a fraction of his strength, just barely enough to sting.  The warmth of his palm settling over the sparking skin soothes any hurt into pleasant tingles. You’re beginning to mourn the fading of the feeling when his opposite hand strikes your other cheek just as hard. This time you gasp and arch your ass higher, forcing Mihawk to take a deep breath to keep his steady pace.

“Careful now or I might think you’re enjoying this,” Mihawk chastises. Beneath his flat tone, he’s positively bursting with excitement. He had worried that you only thought you would be okay with this, but you’re leaning your hips towards him just as eagerly as you do the days he spends hours unraveling you on his face, fingers, and cock. There’s a buzz settling under his skin that’s making every touch feel so sharply in focus. You let out a slightly embarrassed wine, but continue to display yourself to him shamelessly, begging for more.

A harsher smack stings your right cheek, sending ripples down your leg and up your side. You shiver at the burst of brilliant sensation. In anticipation for the next one, you shorten your breath, feeling on edge that you have no clue when it’s coming. The air of the room is electric as it brushes against the goosebumps on your body, vibrating with threat and promise. A breath too long passes with the hand gone and you tense up, immediately receiving a strike to the left in response. It rattles through your bones more with the tensed muscle, knocking the air from you in a loud moan. Your already burning flesh is struck over again, tripling the number of pin pricks you can feel dancing under his hand. You moan, “Sir!”

“Is that all you can take, precious?” Mihawk’s tone is just a touch gentler. He’s smoothing his palms over your marked skin, unable to stop his need to keep touching you. Staring down dark eyed at the first budding handprint, he desperately hopes you’ll let him make more. He’s barely got himself held back as it is now that he knows that sting on his palm, the sight of your ass shaking, the sharp clapping sound, your gasps and moans, the rush of absolute control. His breath is shaking with the need to overwhelm you and fill himself with as much of you as he can shove in his nerves.

“No,” you promise. You shuffle your knees just an inch closer to your chest and give an enticing wiggle of your hips. “More, please, my lord.”

“Good whore,” Mihawk groans. His hand digs into the flesh of your left hip and his right delivers two sharp slaps, each punctuated by a moan from you. You feel the hits fizzle in your skin and echo in a wanting burn rolling through your cunt. Your used pussy already felt swollen but now that’s amplified by bright pounding, feeling like your heart has fled your chest to beat between your legs. A thumb digs and swirls into the center of the bubbling handprint on your skin before disappearing again. You expect another hit, but instead you feel two thick fingers slipping through your entrance, causing you to moan long in relief. You greet them by eagerly pressing your hips backwards, trying to get his fingers to sink in deeper. Mihawk stops at the last knuckle and offers you two indulgent grinds of his hand before it rests still.

“Pleeeease,” you whine. Mihawk responds by adding another handprint to your ass, this time on the left side. His mind is swirling with the sound of your eager squeal, but he’s truly lost at the feeling wrapped around his fingers. He can feel the power of his own hit through you but it is the strong pulsing of your cunt that really makes his hips jerk with want. Mihawk presses his fingers down towards your belly button, seeking the way your pussy trembles with each successive spank. His punishing hand and your body’s spasms have his fingers hooked and twitching over your g-spot and you can feel another climax start to build with each throb of your clit.

“You were made for me weren’t you, treasure?” Mihawk asks, voice tight with desire. Time and time again, his mind has played out the dream of you under him like this but it never could have prepared him for the rush of you getting off to it just as badly. Seeing you become a needy wreck for his strength and will has his heart pounding and cock aching near painfully. He wets his lips and swallows, barely holding back from replacing his fingers with his tongue to taste just how sweetly you’re dripping for him. 

You cry out when his fingers leave you, earning a lighter smack to your hip in warning. You claw into the sheets in frustration but aren’t left wanting for long; fingers reenter you and your neglected right side gets groped. His hand massages deep, helping you loosen up again and enjoy the feeling of his fingers on both hands digging into you. Mihawk marvels at the sheen on your flesh where his fingers smeared the wetness from your leaking cunt. He can’t help but leave a harsh strike right on top of the wet patch. With the encouragement of your panting and moaning and writhing, he continues on, making you feel boiling hot and boneless. 

At this point you’ve begun grinding back on his fingers, fucking yourself back onto them shallowly, afraid that anything more obvious would have him pull them out for good this time. That fear is more instinct at this point than an actual thought; your mind feels like soup and you only know how to feel and react. It’s becoming clear to Mihawk from the way your voice strains higher and your body squeezes down on him that you’ve got a strong climax building in your core. All you can recognize is more and more pressure gripping through your hips and more and more delicious friction earned with each curl back on his fingers.

Suddenly, that friction is gone.

“Nooooooo, no si-hah-irrrr,” you sob. You’re set adrift with the coil tightening in you beginning to unwind. There’s a hand holding each hip but it’s not stabilizing you at all.

“Be good for me, precious,” Mihawk warns, removing his left hand to tap his finger above your clit. It sends unhelpful jolts through your skin, teasing the nerves you need him to smother.

“I’ll be good, sir, promise, promise,” you cry. The way you move and arch your ass in an attempt to earn his touch back is obscene and has Mihawk's hand planting bruises into your hip. You twist your neck to show him one teary eye over your shoulder. “I’m yours, my lord, pleeeeeease. I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” he presses. His voice is just above a whisper, unwilling to interrupt any of the gasps and whines coming from you. You nod fervently. “Then don’t cum.”

Three fingers shove into you, slightly curled and thrusting with the force you’ve been begging for. The wet sounds from each dive of his fingers fill the air between your pants and moans. Mihawk’s arm hooks around your right thigh so he can start steady swirls of his fingers over your clit, timing them perfectly with the thrusts from his other hand. He tries to resist the urge to bend even closer to you, but he’s helpless to the pull. You feel the thick hair on his jaw brush over your right hip. The loving caress is soon replaced by warm lips and nipping teeth, adding even more sparks to the fire he’s tending in you. 

It’s feeling more impossible by the second to obey Mihawk. The muscles in your legs want to curl and lock up and your hips are shaking against Mihawk’s hold. You’re open mouthed and pleading, not quite sure what words are actually coming out, just sure that you have no ability to keep any of them in. Your hands are clawing into the mattress, hoping to find some purchase to center yourself. The rhythmic bursts of pleasure that Mihawk is diligently working from you are so strong you’re not quite sure if you’ve tipped into cumming yet except there’s been no promised snap.

Mihawk is unmeasured in the way he bites and sucks at your flesh, but his hands are another story. He knows your body - has studied your reactions for years - and uses that to slow and lighten just enough each time a wave of pressure around his fingers gets a little too strong or your writhing stills to a tremble half a second too long. Instead of pulling you back or pushing you forward, he keeps you exactly at the edge of climax where he can actually test your will. He’s hard set on knowing how hard you’re going to try to obey him, the thought and sight of your struggle for him filling him with addicting arousal.

Your will over your body is just about to give out so you snap your teeth into the meat of your thumb to pull some attention away from the bliss of Mihawk’s touch. His attention goes up to see the bite when he hears the pitiful moan sneaking past your clenched teeth. He moans deeply at the site. “You’re being so good for me, fuck.” He presses his cheek hard into the burning handprints on your ass and unconsciously mimics the grinding of your hips with his own, finding no relief for himself. One more uptick in force and speed into your plush swollen pussy has you jerking. With digging teeth and a yelling moan into your hand, you manage to hold back against the raging tide of your orgasm.

Mihawk pulls from you and you collapse against the bed, taking in gasping breaths. You’re jostled as Mihawk shifts around quickly, moving to cover you. His breath is loud behind you as he settles there, legs stretched out between your and upper body help up only on his left elbow. That hand has shoved under you to flip around and grip your shoulder tight. His right hand anchors on your hip, guiding you back against his starved grinding.

“You did so well for me, my little whore,” Mihawk breathes into your ear. He nibbles at it before moving down to suck more red marks into your neck and shoulder. The slick way his cock glides through your folds has him burn with satisfaction. He made this pathetic mess of you. Having you soaking for him was no rarity, but the whiny mindlessness, the complete take over by your needy instincts, that was new and only had his need to tear into you grow stronger. He rumbles into your shoulder, “My perfect precious cunt, cum as much as you want.”

Mihawk is guiding himself into you and you shoot right back to being so close after only a few thrusts. You manage to slide your legs a little wider apart across the bed despite his heavy body, packed with muscle, pinning you under him.. It lets his balls tap at your clit with each thrust and just a handful more have a violent orgasm tearing through you. You cry out your bliss every moment you aren’t simply gasping and feel the muscles all the way up your core join the squeeze of your cunt, making the bright ball of pleasure feel like it’s reaching just as high. Your whole body is ringing with the echoes of it, everything feeling so overwhelmingly good.

Mihawk’s hips stutter for only a second before he’s continuing his ruthless pace. His body and mind are flooded with you and he folds to the torrent. A ravenous “more” is mumbled against your skin, barely reaching you through the whiteout in your head. His left hand shoots down to help keep your hips tilted and steady, leaving the weight of his chest to push you deeper into the bed. You’re completely smothered in him, his sweat damp skin pressing and sliding over yours. Unable to fully inhale under his resting bulk, your world gets a little fuzzier. There’s not a single part of you that cares; you feel trapped and controlled and protected and desired. You feel truly wanted and owned, being fucked into the matress under Mihawk while he holds you like a lifeline, sinks teeth into your shoulder, and speaks dark praises to you. When you come back to yourself more fully, having long been suspended somewhere between the crest of your orgasm and settled pleasure, you make little attempts to please Mihawk more. He notices the little turns and grinds of your hips and rewards you by slithering a hand under you to begin petting circles over your clit.

“You feel delicious, precious, you’re so fucking good, held out for me so long.” Mihawk’s voice is a moan and growl and sigh, sounding more untethered than you’d ever heard him. “Need to feel you forever -nnnnnghh- give me more.” The last word is all snarl and he’s shoving his face harder into the crook of your neck, sinking teeth back into your skin.

You aren’t sure if you have more to give him but still try, unquestioningly following his will. You don’t think you’ll need to try for long; both of you are wound precariously tight. Mihawk has lost his will to pull from you, so he moves against you in strong deep grinds. You’ve never felt closer; every sense is filled with Mihawk, every breath, every thought, every piece of you. It feels like he’s fucking you deeper than he’s ever reached, teasing your cervix with his thick tip, pulling you apart as if he’s somehow gotten bigger from the way your muscles have tightened around him. Mihawk feels the telltale buzz of his end flash through his nerves. Desperate, he bites out one more order, “You’re mine. Say it.”

You find the breath to chant, “I’m yours, I’m yours, yours-”

One arm shoves upwards, trapped tight between your breasts and crushing you back into him. He groans out, “Fuck, precious,” before his hips jerk and his cock is pulsing in you. His forehead presses to the side of your head and he’s moaning right into your ear. Fingers twitch against your clit and you feel his hot cum pumping into you and his arms cage you right to him and the friction of it all sends you right into another climax. This one is just as overwhelming as the last but sits in your body more smoothly. It’s a satisfied heat radiating through your muscles, rolling through you instead of jerking. You fall limp under the force of it, left to lay prone and take in every second of your body clutching and reshaping to Mihawk. He guides you both through it with the slow grind of his hips and the points of clarity where his hands grasp you.

“There you go, love, you are divine,” Mihawk praises quietly, as the aftershocks begin to settle out of you both. He gets his arms under him to lift some of his weight off of you and allow you to breathe deeply. He noses at your cheek, peppering you with kisses. You come back to your body slowly as he moves his kisses over the tender skin of your neck and shoulder. Testing the feeling, you open and close your hands, releasing the scrunched sheets. They feel inflated and clumsy, but it will do. Your right hand searches behind your head and quickly finds its way into Mihawk’s soft hair. You scratch lightly at his scalp while your other hand slides across the sheet to find his. Before you manage it, he puts his hand over your own, entwining your fingers in a comfortable hold. Mihawk rests his head behind yours, taking some time to breathe and bask in your touch. He decorates the passing moments with gentle praises, content sighs, and brushing thumbs.

Eventually, he gains the will to pull away from you to prep you both for bed. The moan you give him when he starts to pull away is endearingly grumpy like a spoiled pet roused from a nap. He’s just standing up when he notices your weak and begrudging attempts to get up and follow him.

“Stay down - you’re shaking like a newborn fawn.” The light insult is softened by a loving kiss to your temple. You’re more than used to his dry tone and direct comments anyway, knowing something like that had no cruel intent and that’s simply how he talked. That didn’t stop you from pretending to be a bit upset from time to time for apology affection. You’re pretty certain he was onto you. You were also pretty sure he enjoyed playing along.

You float thoughtlessly in your body, feeling like you’re napping pleasantly without going under. You startle when a hand lands on your shoulder. It’s hot and damp and you understand why when a soft cloth begins washing over your skin. Continuing your heavy-bodied haze, you lay there and let Mihawk wipe over your whole body, only moving to the patient prompts of his hands nudging and turning you. You wince when he works over your ass and pelvis, earning extra affectionate words and touches. You’re on your back, peeking up blearily at him through heavy eyelids, when he finishes up.

“Bathroom?” he prompts and you hum a lazy affirmative. You’re carried like a princess to and from the short stop and are thankful there’s no longer anything to keep you from or possibly interrupt your coming slumber. When you’re placed back onto the bed, Mihawk follows you with the sheets and comforter in tow. With practiced ease, you cocoon together in the bedding. On nights like this, where Mihawk has extra need to feel like he’s surrounding you, he pulls your back flush to his front and curls around you. His skin feels soft on the many places you’re molded together, but you notice it most while you both shift your legs to intertwine. 

“Dove?” Mihawk calls, wanting to know you can still hear him. You hum and snuggle your cheek further into his bicep. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair, punctuating the declaration with a lingering kiss.

“Love you, too,” you promise, adding one last gentle squeeze to your hold on his arm.

Tomorrow he would wake you with gentle kisses and caressing hands. Your favorite morning drink would be ready for you to sip on while leaned back against his chest, enjoying the way he massages the soreness from your thighs. A bath with your favorite salts would await your tired body. Mihawk would sit with you and feed you both fruits and sweet bread. Once the candles saturate the air, he would set about cleaning you head to toe. He would gently tend each bruise and bite mark, murmuring his gratitude and devotion. Each act of loving worship would be a balm to you both, affirming that connecting to and caring for each other is both your greatest want and deepest need. For now, you settle into each other for some much needed rest.

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

Sunspots

Fandom: Sunshine (2007)

Pairing: Robert Capa x fem!reader

Word count: 6,400+

Characters: Robert Capa (Cillian Murphy), the rest of the cast is only mentioned.

Summary: Alternate universe (duh). Reader is the 9th crew member on the Icarus II as a second physicist assigned to assist Capa; she and Capa started dating at some point during the mission. But, in this story, the mission was successful, and everyone lived to make it back to Earth; the reader and Capa have been together ever since. The story takes place during a solar eclipse two or three years or so after they make it back to Earth, and as to be expected, Capa is excited about and fascinated by the eclipse, and so is the reader. He is set on making it a beautiful and romantic experience for her, especially since it was because of them that they can see it from Earth.

Warnings and additional tags: Fluff, smut (p in v), established relationship, mention of masturbation (m and f), the mission is successful in this (everyone makes it back to Earth in one piece), soft!dom Capa if you squint, Capa is slightly out of character in this (he's happy, he's deeply in love with the reader, and he's a little bit of a tease), mention of airsickness, reader-insert, reader-interactive, reader uses Capa's first name a few times, Capa calls the reader "sunshine" (I think it's fucking cute okay? Sue me. I'm just a girl.).

Notes: This is my first fic in literal years, and it is in two parts...both are in this post. I took a lot of liberties here. Necessary ones I think, but liberties nonetheless. I don’t know a lot about space and space travel. I know very little about it actually. However, I did do some research (if you could call it that) and tried to make it as accurate to the movie as I could. I had a ton of fun writing this! I miiiiiiiiight add to this later on, we'll see! I hope you guys like it!

--->Smut below the cut! NSFW, minors DO NOT INTERACT!<---

He had been planning this for months. Years, to be exact. Up until now, he was convinced that if he made it back in one piece, he would have been alone.

Capa had spent over a year cramped up on the Icarus II with eight other crew members. Kaneda, Searle, Trey, Corazon, and Cassie seemed to take him seriously a good chunk of the time, but stayed mostly neutral towards him. Harvey and Mace tended to direct a lot of their anger towards him. Whether it was out of jealousy, anxiety, or whatever else, it didn’t matter what their reasoning behind ganging up on the lead physicist was. Despite their unfounded animosities, it was Capa’s stellar bomb that would reignite the Sun and save humanity from extinction. Even though tensions were understandably high, Capa was the only person aboard the Icarus II who knew the gravity and the importance of the mission they were tasked with carrying out. In other words, he was the only one who knew how to operate the device to perform such a miracle. It was really no surprise to anyone that they put Capa in charge of the payload; he understood the mission better than anyone else on the ship, and it showed. Mace and Harvey began to back off once it finally began to sink in that their lives depended on Capa, and because of that, they should take it easy on him. Try to, at least.

Of all the other astronauts on the Icarus II, Capa felt the closest to Y/L/N, the second physicist, a young woman wise beyond her years who was assigned to work alongside Capa. She was a bit younger than him and the rest of the crew, but she proved to have a level-headed way of looking at things, while also presenting herself with an air of cautious optimism. Her grace and appreciation of everything each of the members were doing drew Capa to her, something that initially made him nervous. She captivated him in a mysterious but welcome way, and she was nowhere near immune to his unique allure and quiet charm.

She would watch him in awe as he spoke, completely entranced by his intelligence. Every word he said, every move he made…she felt it in her heart, and deep in her core. After watching her perform her duties effortlessly without ever faltering once, Capa began to feel at ease with her, and he caught himself quietly thanking the forces that be for pairing the two of them together.

It took a lot of effort on his part to keep his composure around her, and little did he know, it was just as difficult for her to behave herself around him. He knew he was falling for her, and he tried to keep it down as long as he possibly could, just in case his feelings for her weren’t reciprocated. Even though she did feel the same way about him, she made a valiant effort to stay focused on the tasks at hand, despite the ever-looming temptation.

She and Capa grew close after spending hours alone working out equations or going over calculations, and even just spending whatever free time they had talking about anything and everything, but nothing too wild or personal just yet. After one particularly restless night, she left her quarters and came out to the common area to find Capa at the table, his head in his hands. He noticed her and lifted his face to look at her, a faint smile escaping his lips.

“Oh, hey. I take it you couldn’t sleep either?” Capa asked her, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he shifted in his seat. She looked absolutely beautiful to him, still in her sleep clothes that fit her perfectly, the fabric slightly revealing but leaving just enough to the imagination, her hair down and slightly tousled. His gaze accidentally drifted to her thighs and hips, and he looked away suddenly, focusing back on her face. Capa was trying hard to keep his cool as she stood in front of him, fighting back thoughts of how much better those clothes would look on his bedroom floor. He struggled to push the thought away, and was internally failing miserably at it.

She also felt an all-too-familiar feeling between her legs seeing Capa sitting there in his gray tank top shirt, his hair falling on his shoulders in the sexiest way possible. She couldn’t help but notice his well-defined arms, and traced the path of his veins with her eyes. She tried not to stare at him, and swallowed before she answered. “Yeah, unfortunately. A lot to do, a lot to think about, you know?” she answered back as she walked over to the table to sit down next to him. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He motioned for her to sit down, welcoming her. “Oh no, not at all, the company would be nice. And yes, you’re right, there’s tons to think about for sure.” He sat up straighter and turned to face her better as he cleared his throat quietly, still fighting with his wandering mind.

She let out a small breath of relief before she sat down. She turned toward him and continued to speak. “What’s on your mind?” she asked. Even though she was concerned and was aware he was under an insane amount of pressure, she knew Capa had everything under control, and she trusted his judgment completely. “We can talk about it if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath before answering her. “I guess it’s just nerves. You and I have run the calculations countless times now, and we’re on the correct path with everything, the payload is operational and all that…but I’m still a bit anxious about it. It’s nothing crazy, but, you know…” his voice trails off before looking into her eyes. “I just hope everything goes to plan, that’s all. I don’t think we have any reason to think it won’t, but still.”

She looked back at Capa. “Oh believe me, I totally understand.” She moves closer to him in an attempt to reassure him as she rests her hand on his. “But hey, I have faith that we can get it done and all will be well with the universe.” She smiled. “You’re doing amazing, by the way.”

Capa began to blush as he smiled back, softly but warmly. “Aww, thanks. Just doing my job.” He turned his hand over under hers, holding it gently as their fingers tangled together. “You’re doing great, too. We’re so lucky to have you with us…with me.” His heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe he said that out loud, but he didn’t bother trying to go back on it either. “I know I am.” His ocean blue eyes looked at her face, searching for any sign of discomfort or apprehension. He was relieved to find neither in her expression, just her smiling and blushing back at him.

She felt his words deep inside her as if a bomb on a much smaller scale was going off within her chest, and his words almost didn’t register with her right away. She smiled and blushed deeply before continuing. “That’s very sweet of you to say…thank you,” she answered. Despite the fact that they have spent a lot of time alone together in recent weeks, the tension in the room was noticeably thicker…so thick that you could slice it in the air with a scalpel. “I try my best. It’s all I can do, really.” She held onto his hand a little tighter as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Capa broke the brief silence. “Hey…” he began, speaking warily but keeping his smile. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I’ve been waiting for the right time, and I’m not quite sure when that would be or would have been…I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”

She looked back at Capa, curious but cautious. “Sure, you can ask me anything. What’s up?” He returned the gentle squeeze of her hand and softly grazed his thumb over her knuckles.

Capa took a deep breath, and looked away from her for a split second before directing his focus right back on her. He could feel his face getting warmer, his fair-skinned face turning a faint pink. He hesitated for a beat before throwing caution to the wind to speak his mind.

“Well…you know how we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately? Not just on protocol and calculations and whatever else…but in general?” He continued to hold her gaze while he waited for her response.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” she asked as she looked at him, still smiling and holding his hand, butterflies forming in her stomach. “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to gauge where the conversation is going without assuming anything or jumping to any conclusions.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine, all things considered. Amazing, actually…” He swallowed quietly before beginning again. “Um…I guess what I’m trying to say is…I feel closer to you than anyone else on the ship…” He paused and chuckled nervously before he continued to speak. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such a connection to someone. You understand me in a way that everyone else doesn’t, and I really appreciate that. A lot.” He smiled and blushed deeper.

She smiled and blushed deeper as well. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way.” She moved closer to him. “I feel the same way about you.”

He reached his free hand up to gently brush some of her hair out of her face, softly caressing her cheek as he did it. “You’re just…I don’t know what the right word is. Exhilarating? Refreshing, maybe? I guess what I mean to say is…” he trailed off before cupping the side of her face with his hand while holding onto her hand with the other. “I’m falling for you. I mean…I have fallen for you. You’re on my mind constantly.” He gazed at her for a beat before continuing his thought. “I hope that doesn’t make anything weird or awkward.” He searched your face again for any opposition. Yet again, he didn’t find any of either.

Capa wasn’t one to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets to anyone, but it took every ounce of his being not to tell her that he’s seen her face behind his eyelids almost every night for the past two or so months, her name in his throat every time his need for her took over. He let it spill all over himself when he couldn’t sleep, which was unfortunately often. She wasn’t going to tell him that she touched herself to the thought of him any time the mood struck her either, soaking her fingers and her sheets beneath her. The two of them, separated only by a thin wall, had been breathing each other’s names as they reached completion for quite some time, and neither of them had shared any feelings for each other until today. As luck would have it, their feelings were mutual.

She leaned into his hand as she looked back at him. “It’s not weird, I promise…I’ve fallen for you too. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t.” She gazed at him, full of love and infatuation. “You’re all I think about.”

Capa looked back at her with the same intensity. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he replied. He leaned in closer to her still, less than a foot of space between them. “What I really wanted to ask is…” he trailed off as he caressed her cheek and jawline. “I know this isn’t ideal, and I’m sorry about that…but I want this mission to continue with no regrets. I would hate myself forever if I never told you how I really feel about you. With that being said…would you be okay with us seeing where this goes?” His eyes never left hers as he confessed his love for her. “I want to be with you…if you’ll have me. Now, and, God willing, after the mission, too.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard his words. “Of course I will. I want to be with you, too. I want nothing more than to be with you.”

Capa smiled and let out a sigh of relief before he spoke again. “Thank you…really. You mean everything to me, and I want you to know that…I’ll never let you forget it.” He closed any remaining distance between the two of them. He caressed her face tenderly once more. “May I…?”

She smiled at him with admiration and anticipation. “Yes, you may.”

Capa closed his eyes, leaned in, and kissed her gingerly at first, her eyes fluttering shut. She tilted her head as she kissed him back. Their kiss grew more and more passionate as seconds passed. He held her head gently and he ran his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their tongues dancing together softly. Capa slowly broke the kiss and opened his eyes. She opened hers as they pulled away, their pupils blown out with love and desire. He wrapped his arms around her as she pulled him into a tight hug, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” he breathed into her hair as he rubbed his hands on her back, inhaling her sweet scent. “Thank you…I mean it.” Capa blushed some more as he took another deep breath. “God, you make me feel like I’m a teenager again.”

“Me too…you’re absolutely lovely,” she replied, hugging him tighter. “You’re the man I’ve always dreamed of.” She broke the hug before looking into his icy blue eyes again. “Does this mean we’re together?” she asked, blushing and smiling.

Capa smiled back at her. “It does…is that okay with you?” He brushed some of her hair over her shoulder before caressing her face again.

“That is more than okay with me,” she answered. “So, what now?”

Capa blushed deeper as he smiled. “Come here…” He stood up from the table and held his hand out for her to take. She accepted his hand and stood up as he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his plush lips met hers again, kissing her with more intensity and urgency than he had before. She matched his passion as she returned his kiss, tangling her fingers in his long, dark, soft hair.

Noticing her need for him in her movements, Capa moved his kisses from her lips to her chin and jawline, then down along her neck and collarbone, immediately appreciating her reaction as she moaned quietly, tugging on his gray sleeveless shirt. She mused to herself about how effortlessly gorgeous he looked in it again, biting her lip at the thought, instantly reminded of all those nights she fantasized about taking it off of him. Lost in lustful longing, she struggled to get the words out.

“How did you know that I…maybe…we should probably…go somewhere else…” she whispered in between heavy breaths and soft whimpers. “Someone might wonder…what if someone wakes up and…” This is the first time he’d ever kissed her, and he already figured out one of the things that drives her crazy, knocking the air out of her lungs without trying to.

Capa chuckled slyly as he softly shushed her before he agreed. “A wild guess? But yeah…good call.” He gently pulled her with him towards his small bedroom. “We’ll deal with everyone else later. You’re all that matters to me right now.” He opened his door and let her in before shutting it behind him and locking the two of them inside. He looked at her with concern. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to…you know…if you don’t want to…” His voice was low and seductive as he moved his hands under her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine and her shoulder blades with his fingers.

She spoke as he trailed off. “Yes, I want to…I want you. I’m sure about this. Are you?” she answered, looking back at him lovingly.

“As sure as I’m alive,” Capa answered, smiling back at her with just as much love. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” He kissed her some more before gently pushing her backwards onto his bed and positioned himself between her spread legs as he laid her down.

They spent the rest of the night making love to each other, over and over, drawing out every single moment to make it last as long as possible, and after at least a few hours, they wore each other out completely. Their first entanglement started out slow and sensual until their hunger for each other consumed them. They tried their absolute hardest to keep the noise to a minimum, but that became increasingly difficult for the both of them as their makeout heated up and clothes started to fall away.

Capa was gentle with her for their first time having sex, leaving no part of her untouched or unkissed, committing every inch of her skin to memory as if it was their last night alive. As far as he was aware, the woman underneath him was nothing short of a goddess. She gladly returned the favor, marveling at his incredible beauty. She was completely amazed at how he looked as if he was carved from stone, his whole body breathtakingly perfect to her. As far as they were concerned, it very well could have been their final night together. Neither of them were worried about that now, focusing solely on each other.

She was tight like a vice and sopping wet around him, and he stretched her so deliciously that he would whisper his praises in her ear, encouraging her. Capa made it a habit to cover her mouth as he took her, something she learned to absolutely lose her mind over. If he wasn’t covering her mouth as he brought her to climax, he would make sure to devour her with hot kisses as she contracted around him, bringing his orgasm forth soon after. As much as he would have loved for her to be as loud as she possibly could, Capa found it incredibly sexy and oddly endearing when she struggled to stay quiet under him, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he poured himself into her.

She was able to rile Capa up in all the best ways possible as well, and he too had some difficulty trying to keep his voice down. One round turned into two, and then three…and on and on until both of them were sore and exhausted. Once they were able to catch their breath, Capa would make sure he didn’t wreck her too much, and if he did, he’d kiss it all away, and she would follow suit. “I love you” were three little words that neither of them could ever get sick of saying or hearing from the other.

After all of their daily tasks were taken care of for the day, every night on the Icarus II thereafter was spent in each other’s arms, whether in Capa’s bed or hers. On nights when they weren’t ravishing each other half to death with reckless abandon, she and Capa would lay in bed together and talk about whatever came to mind until they fell asleep tangled up in each other. She and Capa were able to keep their new relationship a secret for about a week maximum before the crew found out on their own. They were delighted to discover that none of the rest of the crew were surprised that they ended up together. There was initially some concern, but ultimately the crew accepted it and let it continue, because they knew that these moments the crew had together could be the last they have with anyone, so who cares if two of the crew members fell in love?

Mace ribbed Capa about his enthusiastic nightly activities with Y/L/N, and it was nice that he wasn’t fighting with him for once. It was hard for him to believe that Capa, the usually soft-spoken physicist, had that effect on Y/L/N. He even mentioned to Cassie that he has never seen Capa smile as much as he did now, and Cassie added that Y/L/N had a glow about her. For someone as quiet and reserved as Capa, Mace found it amusing that his new girlfriend could bring him out of his shell like that, and although he would never admit it, he was glad that it was Y/L/N.

Capa was bashful about discussing his relationship with Y/L/N to the others, shying away from the sexual aspect, but he had no issue praising her and giving her credit when it was due. It was obvious that he was absolutely head over heels for Y/L/N, and she blushed anytime the crew teased her or tried to get her to reveal any juicy details about their rendezvous behind closed cabin doors. They were in love, and it brought a new positive energy to the rest of the mission. Kaneda was thankful that everyone seemed to be getting along better and in good spirits, while Trey and Harvey were indifferent towards the two physicists becoming a couple, but thrilled for them nonetheless.

Searle, being a doctor, wasn’t really concerned with it, but was also excited for them. He pretended not to notice the love marks Capa bit into Y/L/N’s neck or the faint scratches she had left on Capa’s shoulders, and especially tried to ignore the way Y/L/N would squirm slightly when she sat down. Corazon, happily content that a relationship so strong could come from something so hellish, reminded everyone that they had a surplus of oxygen coming from the garden due to overgrowth. The crew would still have more than enough oxygen to go around, whether Capa and Y/L/N were “fucking like rabbits” or not, as Mace put it.

After a few weeks of calculations, trajectory adjustments, and protocols during the day and exploring each other and falling in love more and more at night, Capa led the rest of the crew to carry out the mission successfully. Capa made sure everything was done exactly to plan, and he didn’t do anything without his girl by his side, from the ignition of the bomb all the way through the terrifying trek back to Earth.

It didn’t matter how many times the crew had practiced and prepared for the descent back to solid ground, the airsickness still hit Y/L/N the hardest. It was the part of being an astronaut she hated the most, and she never quite got used to it. Capa was well aware of this having seen her go through it during their zero-gravity training, and he felt bad that it was hard on her. He was one of the lucky ones who could handle it well; the worst of it for him was a slight change in equilibrium that left him briefly lightheaded. But now he took care of her lovingly, holding her hair out of the way and rubbing her back as the nausea won the battle against her, never leaving her side until he knew she was okay.

She was embarrassed about it as it was happening, not wanting anyone to see her so violently ill, but was eventually able to joke about it once the sick, spinning feeling dissipated. All of that initial anxiety melted away knowing her boyfriend was right there beside her, making sure she felt well enough before taking care of any other necessary tasks. He reassured her that a lot of people are really sensitive to it, and that it’s nothing to be ashamed of. In an attempt to make light of the situation, Capa reminded her that the reduced-gravity aircraft they used during their weightlessness training was called the “Vomit Comet” for a reason.

As the Icarus II landed, the crew was met with a massive crowd of people cheering them on, congratulating them on their historic achievement, while also mourning the deaths of the previous Icarus crew. Once everyone was back to their normal selves, or as close to it as possible, Cassie, Mace, Corazon, Trey, Searle, Harvey, and Kaneda all went back to their homes in various places around the world.

Meanwhile, Capa and Y/L/N settled down somewhere in the halfway point between their hometowns, close enough to Capa’s sister and her kids in one direction, and Y/L/N’s family in the other. They had found themselves a nice house outside of the city, and the two built their own small planetarium in their backyard together. Their two-story home was modest but just enough for them; not too small, but not too big either. It was there that they stayed happily for the next couple of years.

______________________________________________________________

It was a warm April day, but to Capa, it wasn’t just any typical day. Today was special.

The solar eclipse was happening today. He hadn’t seen an eclipse on Earth in many years. He has seen a few eclipses from the vantage point of the Icarus II in space, but it’s been a long time since he’s experienced one from the ground, and it just so happened that the path of totality was going right over his house he shared with his girlfriend, Y/L/N.

Of course, being a physicist and an astronaut, he knew the date and time of when the Moon was supposed to pass in front of the Sun ahead of time -- months, maybe years in advance -- and he knew he wanted to experience it with the love of his life. Even more than that, he wanted to make the experience as beautiful and as romantic as he possibly could. It was because of the couple and the rest of the Icarus II crew that they were able to view such a remarkable thing from Earth after all.

While Y/L/N was away for a few hours finishing a few last-minute errands, Capa was busy in their backyard in the midday spring air, setting up a massive telescope and a camera. Next to his setup, he spread out a large blanket on the grass, and on it he set a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he was getting the angle of the telescope just right and setting the time lapse to the correct adjustments on the camera, he thought he heard Y/L/N’s car pull into their driveway. As she got out of the car, she looked around for him, but didn’t see him right away.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” she called out. She waited a second before calling out for him again. “Robert? Honey?”

“I’m in the backyard, baby,” he called back to her. “I’ll be right there.” Capa walked over to her to help her carry the bags into the house. He helped her put the groceries away in the kitchen, and once everything had been taken in and put away, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless. She kissed him back, returning his intensity as she held onto his shoulders. She wobbled a little, but Capa held onto her tight, not letting her fall. He gently broke the kiss, his arms still around her.

“Welcome home, sunshine,” Capa said, his eyes full of love. “I was getting nervous for a second there.”

A little dizzy from his kiss, she giggled before answering. “I’m sorry, sweetheart…traffic was backed up, but I made it.” She kissed him again as she hugged him. “How much time do we have until everything goes dark?”

Capa returned the kiss, gently running his hands up and down her back. “We have about half an hour or so before we can see anything happen.” He smiled at her as he played with her hair lovingly. “Might as well head outside so we don’t miss anything cool…what do you think, angel?”

She blushed as she leaned into his touch. “Sure, hun. Let’s go.” She took his hand as he led her outside to their backyard. He helped her sit down on the blanket he put out for them before sitting down next to her. Her eyes widened at the romantic scene he had created for the two of them, the telescope and the camera, as well as the bottle of wine and glasses, and the string lights he attached to the sides of their little planetarium.

He opened the bottle and poured the wine into a glass and handed it to her, before doing the same for himself. “Here you go, my love,” he said as he handed the glass to her.

She gently took the glass from him and smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart.” They tapped their glasses together before they each took a sip. “God, baby, this is really beautiful,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are,” he said as he smiled back, wrapping his arm around her. “I love you so much. Forever and always.” he said as he planted another small kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you too. So much. With my whole heart.” she replied, nuzzling up closer to him.

Capa leaned over to kiss her on the lips one more time. “Shouldn’t be too much longer…it’s getting kinda dark, and it’s quiet all of a sudden.” He moved slightly to look through the telescope lens. “We’re really close now, I think.” He pulled away and moved the lens towards her. “Here, look at this…it reminds me of all those eclipses you and I used to watch together on the ship, just smaller and farther away.”

She looked through the lens and smiled. “I’ll never get tired of looking at things like this,” she said as the sky started to dim. “It’s always so breathtaking to see.”

While she was distracted by looking at the interstellar image in the eyepiece of the telescope, he stood up and reached into his pocket to pull out an engagement ring with a sunstone gem encrusted in the center, and hid it inside his hand. The sky was getting darker still, and the Moon was almost completely covering the Sun.

“Y/F/N?” he asked as he stood in front of her.

She pulled away from the telescope, and Capa helped her to her feet with his free hand. “Yes, Robert?” she asked as the Moon moved closer to blocking the Sun. “What is it?” The sky turned pitch black except for the light coming from the Sun beginning to hide behind the Moon.

He swallowed as he chose his words carefully. “You mean the world to me, Y/F/N. You are my world. Being with you has made me the happiest man on Earth.” He slowly dropped down to one knee in front of her, causing her to gasp as he took her left hand in both of his. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life right here with you. Will you marry me?” he asked gently and lovingly as tears started to form in his eyes.

She trembled and started to cry tears of joy. “Oh my God…yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Tears started to fall down his cheeks as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood back up and took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, his tears mixing with hers. Overhead, the Sun appeared as a white circle in the sky, while the string lights glimmered behind them in the darkness caused by the eclipse.

“I love you, sunshine. More than anything else in the universe.” Capa said as he gently wiped away the tears from her face. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. As they held each other, the sky began to brighten back up. He pulled away from the hug to kiss her deeply again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So much. More than words can ever say.” she replied, kissing away his tears. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Capa blushed. “And I can’t wait to be your husband.” He kissed her back, holding her tightly in silence for a bit before speaking again. “So how was that? Pretty awesome, huh?”

She giggled and blushed. “Everything was amazing! Absolutely beautiful! I’m the luckiest woman on the planet to have you.” She kissed his cheek as she held him close.

Capa smiled and blushed as well. “Good, I’m glad. And I’m the luckiest man on the planet to have you, too.” He kissed her back with a little bit more passion than before. “I was thinking…”

She kissed him back, matching his intensity. “Oh? Thinking about what?” she asked, looking into his beautiful cobalt blue eyes.

“I was thinking that maybe we can go to bed early tonight…you know, to celebrate,” he said with an air of seduction in his voice. “And we don’t have anything going on tomorrow…” He kissed her again, this time biting her bottom lip softly and tugging on it with his teeth before letting it go, eliciting a small moan from her.

She kissed him back, feeling a wet warmth pool between her thighs as he ran his hands up and down her body. She moaned breathlessly before speaking. “Yeah? And how should we do that?”

Capa smiled wickedly as he began to kiss her jawline and collarbone before leaving a lingering kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. “Well, I could start there…”

She moaned a little louder. “My God…you know what happens when you do that…” she breathed as he continued to tease her.

Capa laughed slyly. “Believe me, I’m well aware of what happens, and I’ll never get sick of it. What do you say we go upstairs…” he trailed off before kissing her neck again, his teeth lightly scraping against her collarbone. “I’ve spent enough time exploring the sky when I’d much rather spend all night exploring my future wife,” he murmured, his lips against hers. “And every night after that.”

She swooned at his words, feeling weak at the knees in his arms. “Anything you say, baby,” she whispered. “I’m all yours. Forever.”

“Forever with you sounds pretty fantastic to me,” he said, full of desire for her. Wasting no time at all, Capa took her by the hand and led her into the house. “I’ll be right back, babe. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in a minute,” he said, his voice dripping with lustful need. She didn’t need him to tell her twice as she started up the stairs, but not before he playfully swatted her on the ass on her way up, making her giggle. He practically ran out to bring everything they had left outside into the house as fast as he could, shutting the door behind him with a soft slam when he came back in. He threw the blanket on a chair, leaned the telescope against the wall, set the camera down next to it, and brought the bottle of wine and the two glasses upstairs with him. He entered their bedroom and put everything in his hands on the nightstand.

Capa saw his now-fiancée sitting on the edge of their bed, eagerly waiting for him. “Took you long enough,” she teased him as she bit her lip looking at him. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come back.” Her voice was sultry as she shifted on their mattress.

Blushing, Capa rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as he smiled, and teased her right back. “I was gone maybe two seconds max…you want me that bad already, huh?” She nodded as he took her into his arms again, kissing her deeply as he pulled her closer. Kneeling on the mattress in front of him as he stood at the edge of the bed, she returned his kisses as she lifted his shirt up and over his head before tossing it to the floor. “Good, because I need to have you right now,” he said, his excitement becoming nearly painful. Capa then started to undo the buttons of her shirt, fumbling with them slightly before giving in. He ripped it clear off of her shoulders, sending buttons flying in all directions, causing her to gasp and giggle in delight. He dragged her ruined shirt off of her shoulders and threw it behind him as he pulled one of the straps of her bra down to kiss her collarbone.

“You asked for it, love…I told you, you know what happens when you kiss me and bite me like that.” She kissed him again as she started to unbuckle his belt. “I think you know by now I can’t behave when you torture me.” She shot him a sexy wink before kissing him again. His breath caught in his throat as she tore his belt from around his hips and threw it to the floor to join his shirt.

“Torture, huh? Are you sure? Because something tells me you enjoy it. Quite a lot.” His voice had a sensual danger about it, and it thrilled her. He held her chin with his forefinger and thumb before dropping his voice to a velvety whisper. “And yes, I know exactly what happens. I want to see how much you can take. I also happen to know each and every thing that drives you wild.” He unhooked her bra with his free hand and took it off of her so slowly that she trembled. “See? Just like that.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it, and if you did, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts and my requests are open! <3

[nexysworld]

Road Trip 🎵

Requests are Open - Masterlist

Summary: A short fluffy oneshot where reader teases Olderboyfriend!Leon about his choice in music. Pairings: Older BF Leon x GN Reader Tags: Use of the F word This was inspired by this thread with @hxllfiredoll and @gigabyte-flare about DadRock!Leon. I loved it so much I just wanted to make a tiny blurb to start and explore that concept. (No hate I love dad rock tho lol)

You loved being in his Jeep, not only did it give you a great view of the scenery but it was the only vehicle you could trust Leon not to crash, finally there was no fear of forfeiting your life just for a road trip. However, for the past while you hadn’t been able to contain the soft giggles that kept escaping your lips while the wind blew your hair into a mess. “What’s so funny?” Leon asked, raising a thick blonde eyebrow at you. “N-nothing, nothing’s funny.” You said between stifling laughs. “Yeah right, you’ve been giggling over there for a good half hour now. What’s up?” “I just… Leon, is this really the music you listen to?” “Yeah, so what, got a problem with it?” “No it’s just, Alice in Chains really? That’s like my dad’s music.” “Ouch you wound me baby. I’ll have you know that Alice in Chains is a pinnacle of 90’s grunge. Their earlier work was a little too rough but when Dirt came out in 1992 I think they really came into their own.” “Thanks Patrick Bateman.” You said, rolling your eyes. 

The next song came on and Leon decided to  sing out loud obnoxiously tapping on the steering wheel cutting between lyrics as he drove. “♫ And I feel that time's a-wasting, go So where ya going to tomorrow? . . . And I feel it . . .Where ya going for tomorrow? ♫”

“God, the only thing worse than your choice in music is your singing.” You tossed an empty snack wrapper at him.

He laughed in return. “Fine, you want something more modern?” He pushed the button and removed the current mixtape before replacing it with another. Of course Leon still had a tape player in his car. “Oh god . . . Hawthorne Heights? That is not modern babe. I never pegged you for an emo kid though.” Leon shrugged and continued with his singing.” ♫ And all I had was the memory of what was . . . . I never thought I'd live to tell . . .What's a dream and what is real, the way I really feel ♫.”

“Stoooooooooop.” You groaned flicking through the other tapes in the glove compartment of the car. You finally settled on something you would listen to, popping the current tape out and replacing it. “Oh so Stone Temple Pilots and Hawthorne Heights is a no go, but Nine inch Nails is more your alley?” He chuckled when he heard you fast forward the tape until ‘Closer’ started playing. “You naughty, naughty thing.”

“I guess some dad rock can be okay.” “Dad rock, huh? Fuck am I getting old?” “Yeah you are.” You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “But I love ya anyway.”

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part 4 : Closer

(Three Months into Rhysand's return home)

Rhys is left with no choice but to call the bargain with Feyre in, but it turns out the anger the cursebreaker fills him with is the perfect catalyst.

Warnings - a lot? NSFW, Smut, Penetration, rough sex, d/s dynamics, bratty behavior, mentions of self pleasuring, mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism, degradation and praising, light impact play, alcohol use. Let me know if I'm missing something?

A/N- this is the end, my loves. From here forward would begin the journey that is ACOMAF but with my OC. I'm interested in diving into a tense dynamic between her and Feyre that is very much an enemies to friends trope. I just do not know if I will. If you are interested, this one is pretty obvious to the gurlies with a banging time playlist, "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails

Part One Part Two Part Three

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhiannon could hear Rhys arguing with Feyre. The bargain they struck had begun zapping him this morning and used that small piece of him that lived inside of her to force him to feel her emotions. Panic, fear, depression. He had tried pushing it aside as long as he could before getting too angry to ignore it any longer. 

Rhiannon had dressed him impeccably for his first outside of the court appearance since leaving the mountain. He looked like a God. His fitted black trousers, a black shirt, and jacket with embellished lapels. His swirling chest tattoos peeked out from under his clothing. She, admittedly, had been drooling over her husband.

In her mind, his outfit highlighted the return to health he'd undergone. It showed that his court was thriving under their strong high lord. Appearance was one lesson she took very seriously from her own father. Even if Rhysand hadn't repaired his court alone, she ensured it looked like it he did.

The other high lords did not need to know she had been a driving force in how quickly they recovered. They didn't need to know Azriel and Cassian had made examples of every single male that stepped out of line. That Mor and Amren had slapped the Court of Nightmares back into shape with two long visits. No, she'd allow her mate that credit, especially when it was Tamlin having to face it. She ran a perfectly manicured nail along the rim of the crystal glass before refilling it with the sweet red she had stolen from Rhysand's cabinet.

She smirked as the doorway to their room, and then the bathroom, slammed open and shut. She had been teasing him all day. Sending him images of her playing with herself, sending him images of last night when she was watching him with his cock in her mouth. Now, she sat in their oversized tub, drinking wine, and looking out over their court, she regretted nothing about the bratty behavior she had sent him despite his multiple delicious warnings. Not when it would become this.

She could feel is rage ripping through the bond like wolves. But all of that stopped the second he saw her, naked and wet, in the steamy haze of their tub. "Are you going to join me, or just stand there?" She looked back at him over her shoulder. She watched his eyes go wide and his smirk grow. She took it one step further, wiggling her hips at him.

He growled at her, immediately pulling his clothing off. "Stay right fucking there. Do not move." 

"Right here?" She motioned to the bench her knees were on. "Right in this spot?" She had arched her back and leaned forward out of the tub, allowing him a full view of the absolute present she was offering him. She smirked as he was instantly in the water and over to her within seconds. 

His hand found purchase in her hair, pulling it to arch her back even more. "Teasing me today, little mate? Do you think it was really appropriate to send me images like that while I was trying to save the cursebreaker?" He placed kissed along her neck and jaw line before whispering into her ear, "Did you enjoy fucking the toy I bought you? It sounded and looked like you did, pretty little thing."

She smiled ferally while looking up at him. "I did no such thing, Rhysand. Are you sure your mind isn't playing tricks on you? We both know old age has started to take its toll." A harsh smack found her round ass making her cry out in pleasure. 

"Flithy, fucking, liar." He smacked her ass again, enjoying the way it bounced as his hand made contact, then again and again. He didn't stop until her legs were slightly shaking and her ass was red from the continued strikes. "Am I going to have to fuck some manners back into you, Rhiannon? You are a High Lady. You should behave with more respect."

She felt herself dripping at this point. Rhiannon loved when Rhysand was a gentle dom, but the degrading, angry male she was dealing with right now was her absolute favorite. She loved when he fucked her to release his frustration, and they had a month of build up to this moment. 

She'd spent the past month teasing him. Anything from sucking his cock in the broom closet or under his desk, to having him walk into their shared bedroom with her fingers buried inside of her, to riding his thighs in his office, to begging him finger her under a blanket at family reading night, she'd teased her mate with all she had to offer to lead up to this moment, and he had teased her. He'd wake her with his tongue between her legs, he'd send her memories of them. He kept her on edge constantly.

He reached over her, taking her wine and drinking it. "Did you get that cunt ready for me? Or were you unable to follow that order as well?" He ran a single finger along her folds, groaning at her wetness before pushing it in and making her gasp.

She kissed below his jawline, laughing in a way that had his hand wrapping around her throat and him growling in her ear. She began to ride that finger, then the second he added, moaning before finally answering. "Oh High Lord, didn't you just accuse me of showing you how pretty I looked fucking myself with that toy? Did I not do a good job positioning myself in front of the mirror so you could watch every single inch sink into me?"

"Fucking brat." His fingers withdrew from her and went to his cock. He lined himself up and was inside of her within seconds, his hands gripping her plush hips as he immediately set a punishing pace. Rhiannon screamed at the intrusion before quickly falling into moans and whimpers. "What's wrong, pet? Nothing to say now?" She whimpered at a harsh thrust.

The stretch of his cock had her drooling. No toy compared to her mate. To her husband. Every drag had her eyes rolling back, lips parted as she panted in bliss. Her hips began to meet his as his wings appeared, flared wide in dominance. He was growling and moaning behind her, causing her own pleasure to soar higher and higher.

"Such a fucking tight pussy," another hard spank had her squeezing him and crying out loudly. "Gods I've missed your cunt baby. Feels so fucking good. You were fucking made for me." Another spank, then another. Rhys had his head thrown back as he heard his mate crying out below him. He tilted his head, instead watching her reflection in the glass windows as he fucked her into oblivion. 

Rhiannon was a true ethereal beauty. Her lips were slightly open, whispering his name and praises, her golden skin flushing with the power of his hips meeting her own, bouncing her full ass on his hips and thighs. Her perfect tits. Her small trim waist. Her head fell softly back in pleasure before falling to the side, her back still arched as he took his pleasure from her. 

She was twitching around him with every rich heavy drag of his cock against her. She was begging him for more. "Rhysand, please," a soft moan fell as he moved to angle himself and her to kiss her. A sharp well aimed thrust had her pulling her lips away, "Oh fuck, Rhys!" He began to speed up, hitting that spot. The one he knew all to well from their time together. "Fuck! Yes! Yes! Right there, Rhys!" Her walls were fluttering more and more, the coil in her stomach tightening. "Please! Rhysand please!"

Rhys knew one thing to be true as his name started to fall from her lips in constant breathy moans like a mantra:

He never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. The way he craved her. Whispering her name was enough to breathe life back into places Rhysand didn't even know had died inside of him. She was his. He was hers. From the day he swore those vows to her, until the day they parted this life together.

He felt their bond glowing brightly between them, shimmering and dancing as if it had come alive at this final act of their reunion. He knew also then that he'd never allow anything to come between them. Never again.

"I'm so close, Rhys," he kissed her neck. The hand holding her throat ran down her body as water splashed between them. He found her clit, ghosting it.

"Me too, Rhia. I love you, baby. You know that?" She nodded, whispering to him how much she loved him in return. Her walls were pulsing around his cock, begging him for his release. "I want you to come for me. Come for your high lord." 

Rhys pressed on her bundle of nerves, groaning as her pleasure shot through their bond like a well timed arrow. They tumbled over the edge together, Rhysand moaning so loudly he knew the mountains shook as Rhiannon screamed his name. He allowed her to relax, enjoying her little wiggles on his cock as she spasmed below him. He placed gently kisses to her shoulder, coming down much quicker than her and whispering praise into her rounded ear. 

She was glowing, and it was then that he remembered why he kept her ready for him at all times. She looked like a goddess, her power humming and replenishing some piece of the realm with the extra magic and energy she found in release. Her eyes were shut, and she circled his neck with her arm, pulling him into a passionate kiss as the bond began to settle back down. 

"I missed you," He pulled out of her and pulled her into his lap as he sat in their tub. He pulled the bottle of wine and glass back over to them before taking a drink and offering her one as well. 

She placed small kissed on his jaw line. "I missed you too." She leaned her head on his shoulder, her fingers lacing with his free hand resting on her stomach. "You two were fighting?"

"She threw her fucking shoes at me." Rhiannon paused looking at him before bursting into laughter. "Rhia, this isn't funny. She threw her Godsdamned shoes at me. One hit me, darling."

"Do you have a booboo?" She began checking him over, dramatically looking for any signs of damage. "My poor Illyrian baby! How ever will you recover? Should I call for Madja? Maybe she will put you on bed rest for a week. I will stay by your side and be your nurse if I must." 

Rhys nodded with a smirk at his wife's antics before making eye contact with her. "Keep up that behavior, and I'm going to fuck the attitude right out of you. Your sudden lack of manners is appalling. You spent far too much time with Cassian and Azriel."

Rhiannon smiled, pressing a kiss against his lips. "I apologize my powerful, handsome, intelligent, and cunning mate." He pulled her into another kiss. "Make me a promise, Rhys?" He nodded at the request. "Promise me from here forward we do all of this together. No more one of us is left behind, no more you self-sacrificing, no make fake facade that I am just your little piece of eye candy. Us, from here forward, working together as a team."

He nodded, kissing her shoulder. "I promise you, from here forward, I will take you with me wherever I go, that I will involve you in my choices and decisions. I will never allow something like this to keep us apart for so long ever again. That will end your position as a spy, though, Rhiannon." She nodded at the expected condition. "The priestess knows you are my High Lady," he waved his arm, unglamoring the swirling pattern that covered her right hand and arm. The tattoo he had placed into her skin once she was sworn in as High Lady in secret. "It's time for our family, court, and other High Lords to know as well." He kissed her hand, and each finger.

She leaned in capturing his mouth with hers and relaxed into a long slow kiss. One that was vastly different from the previous they've shared since his return home. It was filled with love, joy, anticipation. She gave him every single ounce of passion she had in her soul and he returned it with his own. They pulled apart, catching their breath together as Rhysand rested his forehead on hers.

"We will begin that process once dear Feyre Cursebreaker is back in Spring. Rght now, darling, we are going to our bed together. So I may ravage you over and over until you are nothing more than a silly cock drunk whore." She giggled as he lifted her out of the water, carrying her bridal style into their room with a wide smile on his face.

"I love you," she whispered as he laid her down on the silk sheets.

"I love you too, Rhiannon."

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

@wallacewillow0773638

[treacheryinblue]

God (of death) Complex

Chapter 3 Preview

Here's a little snippet of the next chapter since I know people are ready to see what's in store! It's just a mini conversation between Noah and his demon lackey, but I like it because it's the first we're seeing him interact with someone that isn't the main 'you' character. This chapter is going to be very different from the last two, and I'm really excited about it.

ANYWAY. Thanks for listening to my rambles.

PREVIEW BELOW THE BREAK.

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain.

The demon clamped his mouth shut in fear that he may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before him. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on his pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” he cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for him, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to his knees, his jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

[excelsior9173]

tagged by @vamprlestat thank youuuu!!!

6 albums i’ve been into lately

take me back to eden- sleep token

of course i have to have my boys in here, i am jamming all their albums but especially this one as i get ready for their show in may!

all the right reasons- nickelback

gotta rep my prairies trash canadian side lol. been listening to this album since it released! we got it stuck in the cd player in our minivan when i was a kid so it was the only album we could listen to for a year lmao. follow you home will forever be one of the hardest album openers

si vis pacem, para bellum - seether

been really loving this album lately, i love this band! beg is one of the best songs i’ve heard, the attitude and anger in it is incredible. also i love that the album title is in latin, i got to put my schooling to use! (it means ‘if you want peace, prepare for war’)

envy- whale and the wolf

debut album for these boys! they’re partially from my (current) hometown and i try to see them every time they swing through the city. one of the greatest live bands i’ve had the pleasure of seeing and i truly hope they blow up because their music deserves to be heard everywhere!

the death of peace of mind- bad omens

ah the album that was responsible for my descent into metalcore/metal/whatever you want to call it. i love the overall feel of this album, it’s so dark and sexy and the vocals are incredible

the crow (original motion picture soundtrack)

i love love love this movie and this soundtrack is incredible. no movie soundtrack will ever live up to this one, the mood is incredible. i am tentatively excited for the remake as i love bill skarsgård, but i fear the soundtrack will not be as good. how do you beat the cure and stone temple pilots and nine inch nails?!

thanks again for the tag :)

i’ll tag @foxgloveinspace and @a-little-lynx (no pressure!) and anyone who sees this and wants to do it!

[gorbalsvampire]

On Golconda and Paths

Here's the thing about Golconda.

In the Dark Ages, it was understood that there was a Beast, and that many Roads led away from the Beast, and that at the end of every Road there was a state of being in which one was a paragon of one's virtues, as far from the Beast as any Cainite could ever be, and that state was called Golconda. A Paragon of the Road of Sin would look like a shame, a caution and a horror to a follower of the Road of Heaven or Kings, but their Beast would be mastered nonetheless.

Much that was once known was lost, in the War of Princes and the Inquisition and the Revolt and the rise of the Sabbat.

A Path is not a Road, built and tended with the authority of mind over soul. A Path is simply a route trodden by many, through a wilderness poorly understood by all.

The Sabbat is permanently struggling, and its Enlightenment begins with a breaking of the self and a submission to the Beast. Its Paths are framed by an eternal war that defines everything the sect thinks and does, against everything it can reach, against enemies vast and abstract. It is not interested in Golconda any more than it is capable of winning.

The Camarilla? They have maintained but one Road – Humanity – to the detriment of all the others. Theirs is the struggle between Beast and Man, and when a Kindred wishes to be neither, they fold their arms and say "nevertheless: choose, or be damned." The Camarilla does not believe in many things that happen to be true; it believes in you believing what you're told, and if you don't, well, you must be lost to the Beast already, mustn't you?

In the modern nights, Golconda is an accident. The Roads, well kept and maintained, are lost, and all that remains is to blunder along the Path and hope.

This position is a synthesis arrived at from reading the Dark Ages, Victorian Age and modern nights corebooks I started out with, running games in all three, and seeing a change in how Vampire morality works on either side of some definitive lore events.

During the War of Princes, i.e. before the formation of the Camarilla, you have five major Roads and at least as many minor ones. None of them are presented as necessarily more important, more widely followed, or more "true" than the others. And, crucially, in the Revised era - that's Dark Ages Vampire, not Vampire: the Dark Ages - all of those Roads have an Aura attached. At a high Road rating, that is to say really living up to their personal ideals, a character radiates a palpable sense of something - authority, temptation, compassion - suggesting that they are approaching a different order of being.

After the formation of the Camarilla, on the other hand, you have Humanity presented as the default state of being for vampires. Their central moral struggle is to preserve their Humanity from the ravages of the Beast - there are very clear consequences for letting your Humanity drop, but the Aura corresponding to the Dark Ages' Via Humanitas is no longer present. Something has changed. Something about the way vampires work is not as it used to be.

Dark Ages was always a backformation - a prequel created after the core operations and tenets of Vampire were established. And those core operations and tenets have always included a sense of Humanity as "The Downward Spiral," (which ain't just the team's favourite Nine Inch Nails record) of vampires as risking "degeneration" should they engage in behaviours prohibited by a "Hierarchy of Sins." The journey toward the Beast has always been more explicitly mapped out than any journey away from it, which is almost an afterthought in terms of rules. Spend XP to restore Humanity. You may reach Golconda, I guess.

This is fine, it's a solid bit of Gothic theming, core to the game, love it. Except... it doesn't gel with the Paths of Enlightenment, many of which are transhumanist in nature, and which - again, in Revised, this is where I came in - are built from a start of actively running down your Humanity and then adopting your Path and then needing to build your Path rating back up again, i.e. climbing a moral ladder away from the Beast. This doesn't really work when the Paths' morality is written, like Humanity, as a series of failure points - Sins by which you degenerate and risk the Beast. The Paths, as written, are a kind of square peg/round hole situation where you have to turn prohibitions into opportunities to progress. And there isn't as clear a mechanical reward or incentive for maintaining a high Path rating as there is for a high Road rating. No Auras here either.

So, what I arrived at, once I'd run my first successful Dark Ages Vampire game and had this distinction really brought to my attention, was a sense that vampire morality had changed between one side of the transformative events in the early modern period. And that's when I started thinking about what it meant that your characters in Dark Ages and Victorian Age occupied the same band of generations, and thought about how the Camarilla can get away with claiming there are no such things as Antediluvians when some of its founding figures have a personal memory of Antediluvians being actively involved in the War of Princes.

That's when I started taking the Inquisition seriously, as an effectively genocidal event that wiped out almost all playable vampire characters. Higher than sixth generation? Yeah, you probably didn't make it through the War and the Revolt and the Inquisition, and repopulation took a while, Tradition of Progeny and all that. The surviving elders are the ones who deliberately fabricated new social orders for vampirism - the aggressive, militant transhumanism of the Sabbat and the centralised "we hide amongst humans and Humanity is the best way to do that" principles of the Camarilla.

And that's how I arrive at my model of vampire morality.

[laracrofted]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH MY LOVE!!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

may i request “i’ve been thinking long and hard about what i wanna do with you tonight” with rhett please

love youuuu

surprise, like three months late! long story short, i never finished my original idea, but i decided to give it another go with rockstar rhett instead. love you lots 🖤

warnings: 18+ only, minors and ageless accounts dni, set after downright iconic, explicit smut (in essence, i salvaged some smut i cut from the original fic so... unprotected sex, praise, degradation, derogatory names (slut, groupie), spitting, pre-negotiated role play, rhett is hot and mean), swearing. not proofread. rockstar!rhett x girlfriend!reader

Everything started with a confession, your confession.

"You know all I wanted to do when I saw you play for the first time was follow you on your smoke break and suck your cock, but I had to be a professional..."

You'd dropped it like a grenade, casting it out into the darkness, living for the way Rhett's breath hitched.

This starts with a confession too.

His confession on the drive home.

"If I hadn't had to go out for that goddamn encore, I would've snuck you backstage, put your legs over my shoulders in that little skirt of yours, and fucked you senseless, would've fucked you like a filthy little slut right there."

And now, Rhett is looming over you on the edge of the mattress, pressing into you an inch at a time, so tortuously slow, so goddamn good.

It was easier to get into character at the dive bar, shrouded in the maroon darkness.

How can you pretend to be strangers – well, sort of strangers. Can you really be strangers with a man who has come in your mouth? – when you're in your own bedroom?

When a Handsome Gambler vinyl is framed on the wall, right next to a copy of the Caspar Star-Tribune with your "Handsome Gambler is Not Afraid to Lose" article on the front page?

(You'd framed the vinyl for Rhett's birthday. He'd framed the newspaper article before you'd even started dating.)

But Rhett had been patient and calm, coaxing you with wonderful and depraved words pressed against your pulse, murmured into the column of your throat.

"So good for me on your knees back at the bar."

"So eager for my cock."

"Such a pretty little slut for me."

You'd melted. How could you not?

You're pinned open for him, calloused hands looped around your ankles, damn near folding you in half.

He's so strong. He could easily move you, could easily flip you on your stomach and fuck you into the mattress.

He's so damn big. Feels so much deeper in this position.

It's been so long.

"S'big, Rhett, so much. You're so..."

You're squirming under him, but Rhett's grip only tightens.

"Aw, darlin'..."

He notches in another inch, hard and purposeful, and a strangled sound punches out of your chest, half gasp, half moan, needy and pathetic, and Rhett smirks.

"Where's that little spitfire from before? You were so eager, droolin' all over my cock, wanted it so bad. Don't you want to be a good groupie for me?"

He pulls back an inch, and you grasp at his arms, nails digging in, leaving half moon crescents on his forearms.

"No, I want it, I want it. It's just... so much."

"I know, baby," Rhett coos, a gentle sound at odds with his mean words. "So nice of me to let you have it, right?" He slots in, deeper. "Right?"

You are so damn full, held down.

You gasp out, "God, yes, Rhett, yes."

He slows, brushing damp strands of hair out of his face, curling from warmth and sweat, and brushes a smear of mascara from your cheek, hand gentle, blue eyes bursting with affection.

"You're not fadin' on me, are you, darlin'? You're still having fun? We can always put on a movie or something."

You glare at him. "Do you really think I want to watch a movie after nine weeks apart? You better fuck me, Rhett Abbott."

He grins, dim red light gleaming off his sharp canine.

"Oh, I will. Been thinkin' long and hard about what I wanna do with you tonight."

Anticipation makes you clench around him, and Rhett's gaze burns into you.

His voice hardens, in character again. "Open your mouth for me."

You open, sticking out your tongue, and Rhett spits in your mouth.

"Swallow."

You do.

"Attagirl."

He pushes in again, harder, deeper than seems possible, and a desperate whine climbs up your throat.

He shushes you, gentle and mocking all at once.

"Shhh, I know, baby, I know." And deeper still. "We're gonna have some fun, aren't we?"

a mini tag list for the downright iconic verse, aka people who asked for more: @lewmagoo @theharddeck @blitchen @mxgyver @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @sometimesanalice

[man-kills-everything]

Just Like You Imagined (Live Rehearsal for the Fragility Tour)

[frgmnthtr]

[sp00ky-p00ky]

Live : And All That Could Have Been by NIN 🖤

*no skips*

I love you Trent 🖤

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter One)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: So, I hope Simon doesn't come across as out of character or anything in Act One. Just as a reminder, this is Simon and not Ghost. In my opinion, he doesn't become Ghost until after the Mexico incident and after his family have all been killed, which hasn't happened yet.

I've got a few different Ghost stories on the go and it's fascinating to me how many different facets this man can have depending on the circumstances. With this story, he learns to love and winds up married before he's Ghost which obviously changes things. This Simon is very different to one of my others who never had that and then has to learn to deal with feelings as Ghost. The man's brain is just fun to dive into and to watch how things change when I switch things up.

Act One starts off… well, it starts off horny, not gonna lie lmao Act One and Act Two have very different vibes as you'll come to find out.

Nine Inch Nails - Closer

(Help me) I broke apart my insides (Help me) I've got no soul to sell (Help me) The only thing that works for me Help me get away from myself

I wanna fuck you like an animal I wanna feel you from the inside I wanna fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

2006

The sky was dark and murky, a light dusting of rain starting to come down. The kind of rain that was so fine you barely felt it, yet would soak you anyway. Simon was glad to be sitting under the roof of the bus stop. The bus had almost ten more minutes to get there and he was already impatient. For the millionth time, he asked himself why the fuck he didn't get a car, wasn't like he couldn't afford one now. 

Being back here always set him on edge. He hated Manchester, it just held too many bad memories for him, yet something about it was just inherently… home. Not to mention he wanted to be close to his mum, to Tommy and Beth. The girl was pregnant now and he felt something stirring in his chest at the idea of his baby brother being a dad. That was all he ever wanted for him, to have a good life, and now he was freshly married to the love of his life and expecting a child. Simon was happy for him. Happy and maybe secretly a bit jealous. He knew he wasn't built for that though, just wasn't in the cards for him. 

He heaved a sigh as he glanced around, watching as cars moved passed in a blur. It wasn't exactly the same piss poor area of Manchester he lived in as a kid, the military paid far better than the butchers did. He could afford an apartment on the outskirts of the city centre now. Could afford one in the city centre if he wanted it but he really loathed being around so many people. He'd always been antisocial and with a childhood like his, who could blame him? But now at 23 years old, after seeing and doing things in the military that most people couldn't comprehend… well, he didn't feel human half the fucking time. 

With another deep sigh, he brought his arm up, pushing his navy blue jumper sleeve out the way so he could see his watch. 8 more minutes. He wondered if he should just walk home, never one to enjoy the wait for anything. He wasn't too far. Tommy had invited him out for a drink and he'd picked a pub near the city centre. He reckoned he could get home in under 15 minutes if he walked, but then movement caught his eye and he lazily glanced to his left. 

A girl was hurrying down the pavement through the mist of rain. She had on a black dress that screamed ‘night out’. It looked shiny, like some kind of satin that clung to her in all the right places. She was a tiny thing yet her body was the perfect hourglass, the dress only highlighting it with its thin straps and its neck that was dangerously low. She had long brown hair tumbling down her shoulders in waves, the colour a stark contrast to her skin that was as pale as snow. 

Instead of the ankle breaking heels he'd expect with a dress like this, she was wearing combat boots. Docs, he noticed, when she got closer and he saw the yellow stitching. As she got nearer, he saw the glint of a nose ring and could see a few tattoos dotted along her pale skin. Fuckin' hell. She was so… different. 

It had been a while since his interest had been piqued. He'd resigned himself to just one nighters that meant nothing when he was on leave. Nameless faces from bars when he was out of it. Pretty enough to get his dick going but not interesting enough to stop him from sneaking out in the morning and never speaking to them again. 

He expected the girl to walk right past the bus stop, anticipated the glorious view he knew he'd get from behind as she did. But instead, she turned into the bus stop, hair dripping wet as she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She plonked heavily on the bench beside him, leaving some space between them. Her scent floated over to him then and he was powerless to take a deep inhale. Fuckin' hell. There was something fruity like peach or apricot, but there was also vanilla and something deeper, darker. Something so alluring that he shifted in his seat and cursed himself. He hadn't been laid since his last leave and he blamed the lack of human touch for the stirring in his jeans. 

He cast a sideways glance at her, his dark eyes taking in her trembling form. He noticed a few things up close then that he hadn't seen in her approach. Like the tear tracks down her pretty cheeks and her red and puffy eyes. Bright blue they were. Like the ocean in some far off country when the sun hit it just right, but they were marred by the red surrounding them. He noticed then how her right arm, the one closest to him, was covered in what looked like fresh bruises and a graze down her forearm that was slowly oozing blood. Something quick smacked him in the chest as a barrage of memories struck him like a freight train. 

“You in trouble, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice low and she whipped over to look at him. Those pretty blue eyes flicked over his face rapidly, taking him in, sizing him up. Then they settled back on his own dark eyes. Fuckin' hell. When was the last time someone had looked at him like that? He wasn't sure he'd ever been looked at with whatever this look was but it was stirring something deep inside of him. His eyes darted to the arm she'd fucked up and her eyes followed, realization crossing her face as she did. 

“Oh… no, I fell over,” she replied with a shake of her head. Her voice was soft, sweet sounding and despite the situation he found himself in, his treacherous brain wondered what it would sound like moaning his name. He didn't realise he'd turned into a touch starved sexual deviant. 

“Heard that one before, love,” he countered with a raise of his brow and it caused her to snort, amusement dancing across her pretty features. 

“No, I really did fall. Tore out of the club like a bat out of hell and tripped over. Bouncer was nice enough to help me up,” she murmured, giving him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

“Not nice enough to patch you up though, yeah?” He asked sardonically and her smile brightened into a more genuine one with amusement once more. 

“Guess not,” she shrugged as she turned to look back out at the road. He watched her sombre face for a little longer before his eyes drifted back to her arm.

“You’re bleedin’,” he muttered, pointing out the obvious. She glanced at her arm before shrugging again carelessly. He sighed to himself before he shifted, grabbing the bandana from his back pocket. 

He gently took her arm, making her eyes snap to him, watching him curiously as he held her forearm. It gave him an excuse to touch her. Fuckin’ hell, she was soft. He also got a glimpse at some of her tattoos now. On the inside of her forearm were three cards. Tarot cards or whatever the fuck they were called. He had no idea what the cards meant but there was Death, Three of Swords and The Tower, all of which looked not very positive and made him wonder why the fuck she had them inked onto her skin. He had to admit that the artwork was pretty nice though. He felt her pretty blue eyes boring into him as he started to wrap the bandana around her forearm where it was bleeding from the graze. It was silent and he tried to think of something to say, wishing he was more social so he could actually get to know her a little better. 

“You ever wonder what the point is?” she asked after a long moment. He was taking his sweet time tying the bandana off, wanting to prolong the contact he had with her. 

“The point of what?” he asked curiously, eyes flitting to her morose face.

“Living. What's the point in everything, why are we here? What's the point?” she asked with a frown and he felt something tugging deep in his chest.

“Should I be worried you're gonna fling yourself off a roof, love?” he asked warily, finishing tying the knot in the bandana. His hands left her skin then but he stayed facing her. She heaved a sigh that even he could feel the heaviness to as he watched her carefully.

“I’m not gonna kill myself. I just… everything's miserable, you know? I came out of the womb with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. Almost died. Mum always told me it would have been better if I would have, maybe that was a sign,” she muttered and the words made a deep ache pinch inside of him. She said it so matter of factly and a frown etched onto his face. 

“That's pretty grim,” he remarked, unsure of what to say. He wanted to comfort her but he had a feeling she didn't want comforting. She laughed then and it startled him. A genuine laugh that felt like bells chiming all around him and making his inside feel like they were about to turn into outsides. She smiled up at him and he suddenly felt unable to breathe. Fuckin’ hell. 

“Grim should be my middle name with the life I’ve had. Just found out my boyfriend of four years has been cheating on me with my best mate. So now I’m out of a boyfriend and a friend,” she was still smiling but this time more mockingly and she turned her eyes away from him. 

“Whoever he is, he's a fuckin’ tosser then. What kind of arsehole would cheat on a girl like you?” he asked with a shake of his head. It annoyed him to think. Whoever this dickhead was, he didn't deserve her. That bright smile graced her face again then and he found himself wanting to bring it to her face more often.

“A girl like me?” she asked with a cheeky glint in her eyes. It made his heart thump wildly against his ribs as he looked down at her. 

“You're beautiful,” he said simply, watching as heat seemed to sweep up her entire body. What a pretty colour pink was on her cheeks. She let out a breathy laugh as she turned away, a bashful look on her face that melted off in seconds.

“Not beautiful enough apparently,” she replied with a shrug. He wanted to argue with her. Wanted to tell her that she was more than beautiful enough and the guy was just a  piece of shit. Yet the words died in his throat, struggling to comfort a stranger at the bus stop.

“The relationship was a mess anyway, I should have seen it coming. It got to that point where we stayed together because it was more convenient than to split. We were just going through the motions. But my best mate? It's a slap in the face having both of them sneak about like that. It's the lies that bothers me the most, you know? Probably for the best anyway, the sex was miserable,” she rambled with a huff and he chuckled at her. 

“That right?” he asked with amusement and she glanced to him with that pretty smile and eyes that spelled trouble.

“Mhm. Never had an orgasm with him, can you believe that?” she asked and he blinked dumbly at her for a moment as his brain registered her words. He hardly expected her to come out with something so personal. 

“Never?” he asked, sounding incredulous. This arsehole was bringing shame to all men with this bullshit. It wasn't hard to get a girl off, he had no idea how some guys had problems like this. 

“Never. Had to fake it the entire time and it was so boring. He never wanted to try anything. Probably ‘cause he was doing it all with Jessica,” she said the name with a mocking smile and a roll of her eyes before her face turned miserable once more. 

“What kinda stuff did you wanna try?” He asked. He was curious, he wouldn't lie about it. Wondered just what naughty things the girl wanted to get up to that her miserable wet blanket of an ex wouldn't allow her to. But he also didn't like that sad far away look on her face so he figured they could keep the conversation going in this direction. 

She glanced at him then with that pretty pink hue back on her cheeks and a demure look in her eyes. He could practically see the cogs whirring away in her head as she contemplated telling a random stranger at the bus stop about what she wanted to get up to in bed. 

“I won't judge, love. Promise,” he added, hoping to ease her worries. His curiosity was getting worse with each passing second, a more primal part of his brain just itching to know what she wanted, wanting to know just what she liked. 

She looked away again, pursing her lips for a moment before she blew out a breath. 

“It's nothing… too kinky or whatever. I just didn't get to try anything. Wanted to start easy, I guess. Wanted to try dirty talk, or more like someone talking dirty to me. Guys being vocal, words or moans… it always got me going a bit, but fucking him was like fucking a corpse,” she huffed and a chuckle got pulled from Simon's throat. 

“And I've always wanted to try… being submissive. The idea of a dominant man in bed appeals to me. Spanking, hair pulling, a bit of choking… But not like degradation or anything, my self esteem is too battered for that,” she snorted self deprecatingly and a smile tugged at his lips at her admission. Little lamb wanted to play submissive, did she? He shifted where he sat, hoping to conceal the bulge forming in his jeans at the thought of her submitting to him like that. His hands wrapped around that pretty little throat as he impaled her on his cock over and over. Fuckin' hell.

“Praise, then?” He asked, dark eyes boring into her and watching as she nibbled on her plump lower lip. Her blue eyes locked on his at his low and gravelly tone, something sparkling behind them as a shy smile curled her lips.

“I've never been praised in bed but I think I'd like it. Like a cat getting head rubs,” she grinned impishly and it was so endearing that he had to temper the urge down to kiss her.

“You wanna be called a good girl, is that it?” he asked, unable to hide the sinful undertone to his voice as he leaned closer to her. He felt the energy shift between them as he blinked lazily at her, like a lion basking in the sun and watching its prey. She looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, lips slightly parted and he watched how her eyes drifted to his lips before floating back up to his eyes. She nodded, the dusting of pink still sitting prettily on her cheeks.

“Words, sweetheart,” he drawled, a surge of something primal stirring inside of him at her little intake of breath at his words.

“Yes,” she admitted softly, seemingly unable to take her eyes off him. He was painfully hard now, his cock pressing uncomfortably on his restrictive jeans.

“You wanna be my good girl, love?” he purred, dark eyes swirling with so many promises if she agreed. Jesus, he wanted her to agree, more than he wanted anything in his entire life. He wasn't quite sure what had come over him.

“Yes,” she murmured breathlessly, “please,” she added and the smile that graced her face was devilish and he once again felt unable to breathe. Fuckin’ hell, I’m in trouble.

A noise he could only describe as a growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he reached out, his large hand gripping her jaw as he leaned down and crashed his lips to hers. Her hand fisted his jumper as she leaned closer, melting into him in a way that pleased him deep inside. His grip on her jaw was firm and his other hand snaked to the nape of her neck as he fisted her hair, tugging it a little. 

She let out a gasp that jolted through his entire being and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside her mouth to really taste her. She relented to him instantly, allowing him control as he explored every inch of her mouth. He could taste the cheap whisky she’d had back at the bar and he’d never liked the taste more. He lapped up every bit of her he could, allowing it to set his body on fire before he had to pull away, only for the sheer need to breathe. 

He was breathless when he pulled away and she looked dazed, her pretty eyes blinking up at him like she was somewhere else. His thumb stroked her cheek gently and it brought a smile to her face that had him melting all over again. Her eyes drifted to his lips before back to his eyes and this time, she was the one to lean up, capturing his lips. It was more tame and a lot slower than his desperate kiss but no less sensual. He let her explore him this time, loving how her hand splayed over his heart as she pushed closer to him. He pulled away when he heard the tell tale sounds of the bus down the road and he moved away from her, flashing her a sinful smile as he stood,

“Comin’, love?” he asked her, raising a brow. She flushed pink, taking his hand as she stood.

“I hope so,” she murmured wryly and it startled a laugh of him which only served to make her face light up.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he snorted, shaking his head fondly at her. He tugged her closer and she fell into him, one hand still wrapped in his as the other went back to his chest. His eyes darted to the bus as it got closer before back to her radiant face. 

“You'll definitely be comin’, sweetheart, I promise you that,” he assured her, giving her a serious look. 

“You seem confident you’ll get an orgasm out of me,” she grinned cheekily at him and he licked his lower lip, loving how her eyes darted to the movement.

“I’ll get more than one outta you,” he smirked and she snorted a soft laugh, eyes twinkling at him.

“That right?” she asked, sounding amused like she didn't believe him. She’d damn well find out. 

“Mhm. I’ll get at least three outta you,” he grinned wickedly and her eyes widened as she swallowed thickly. He already knew just how he’d be getting those from her too.

“Three? Are you serious?” she asked slowly, like he was stupid.

“As a fuckin’ heart attack, love,” he murmured and her cheeks flushed. The bus pulled up then and he led her on, paying both their fares for them before leading her to the back where no one was sitting. 

She sat close to him, hand still in his and he was glad she hadn't tried to take it back. He had this deep desire to be as close as possible with her and he still didn't understand it. He never did this. He did impersonal fucks after getting drunk at a bar. Going back to their place so he could slip out before morning without having to speak to them. Hell, sometimes he couldn’t even be bothered with that and just fucked them in the alley outside or the fucking toilets. He didn't do whatever the hell this was, yet he couldn't bring himself to stop. He just wanted more. The bus started moving again and he glanced to her as a thought occurred to him.

“Name’s Simon, by the way. Thought you should know since you’ll be screamin’ it soon,” he drawled, leaning closer to her. She laughed, amusement and mischief dancing across her face as she blinked up at him.

“Does that line usually work?” she asked cheekily and he scoffed, trying to look offended but it was hard when she was making him smile like a fucking psychopath. 

“Dunno, never used it before. Did it work?” he asked with a devilish grin and she giggled at him. It was such a precious sound that he wished he could record it and play it over and over when he was overseas in the deepest trenches of war. Her tongue swiped over her top teeth and she looked deep in thought for a moment, her body leaning into him even more and allowing him to drink in her scent.

“I’ll give you an eight out of ten for trying,” she smirked and his jaw dropped for a minute, eyes narrowing at her.

“You're givin’ me a participation award?” he asked slowly and she snorted, flashing him a pretty smile.

“The good girl line was way better,” she shrugged with a grin and he leaned in, unable to help himself. Who the fuck was this girl and why was she making him feel this way? His lips ghosted hers and her breathing hitched, making him almost purr in delight at her reactions to him.

“Never told me your name, love,” he murmured softly, rubbing his nose against hers teasingly as she tried to chase his lips for a kiss.  

“Charlotte,” she supplied and he finally graced her with the kiss she was after. Her lips were so soft against his and he loved the way she clung to him, gripping his jumper when he kissed her like this. He broke away, nipping at her lower lip and dragging a moan from her that should have been shameful on the back of the bus but neither of them seemed to care. 

“Charlotte,” he repeated, testing how her name tasted on his tongue. She seemed to light up at hearing it coming from him though. Pretty little thing was so responsive to him, he couldn't wait to get her into bed.

Looking up, he saw his stop coming up and he stood, leading her by her hand again to the front of the bus. She went willingly, her other hand curling around his arm as the bus swayed and jostled her. He glanced down at her, so small but yet fitting perfectly at his side like this and he felt something light up deep in the recesses of his hollow chest. She looked up and gave him this sweet smile. As if he wasn't some random stranger she met at the bus stop. Some random guy that was bringing her back to his place for a good time. She looked at him like she’d known him her whole life, like they'd known each other before. Looked at him like he meant something. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the bus stopping, the door opening with a screech. His heart was hammering with anticipation of what was about to happen. Never in his life had he been this excited to fuck someone. Not even when he lost his virginity to some older girl in school he couldn't even remember the name of. This whole situation had him feeling so unlike himself, but he didn't hate it either. He felt like he was being sucked into a black hole and he was just allowing it to happen. He just hoped he could hold on long enough to enjoy the ride.

[liminalpebble]

How about meeting Eddie at a club and him being super confident, but when you finally get him home with you, he turns all shy and nervous? Like trips over his pants trying to get out of them, super nervous to touch you as he's not had that much experience, so you help him out and teach him? 🤭

Hello my love,

Thank you for this request from literally months ago. Sorry it's taken so long to get to, but I hope you love our adorkable dude in this.

P.s. Minors DNI

--

Little Red Heels

Half your closet was strewn over the bed of your new apartment and abandoned there as you left for the evening. It had been awhile since you'd really “gone out” and this would be the first time “out” in your new town of Hawkins. It was hard to decided on an outfit and it felt like everything you pulled on (then shrugged off with a huff) looked stupid on you.

You didn't know anyone yet, not really. There were just a few polite nods and waves as you made your way to your new cubicle each morning, but no one whose name you remembered and you would bet that they didn't remember yours either.

So when the hand-drawn and egregiously-photocopied flier slid through your mail slot, you read the red paper with a smirk:

The Hideout. Goth and Metal Night! Live music from Corroded Coffin and then Old School Goth and Industrial on the Dance Floor ALL NIGHT LONG.

Initially you rolled your eyes, but as the work week in the cubicle dragged on, you felt more and more lonely. You wanted to find weirdos like yourself.

------

So here you sat at 10 pm, perched on a bar stool, alone with your drink, waiting for the oblivion of dancing tipsy to your favorite familiar songs. You sipped on what the bartender charmingly called “coffin juice,” swirling the little straw in the blackish purple concoction. Cute, you thought, wincing at the too-sweet chemical flavor. At least it was cheap and strong.

It took longer than you hoped to settle on an outfit. You had arrived late, catching the tail end of band's set. They were a sloppy but talented thrash metal gang; the kind of guys who you were sure have been headbanging together since middle school. The songs were loud and catchy and you tapped your leg along with the beat, thinking maybe this could be fun after all.

----

You couldn't know the the guitarist was watching you from beneath the glaring lights of the stage. Your stoplight-red patent leather heels and your shiny vermilion lips caught his eye; the only pops of color in a sea of black and battle vests. He couldn't help running his eyes up the lattice of those black fishnets, over the shapely curve of your calf, up to where the hem of your skirt rode up your bouncing thigh. Nervous. He thought. Poor sweetheart, she's new and she's nervous. But damn, is she pretty.

Eddie didn't think he'd stand a chance, but he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna try.

Fake it til you make it. He thought, adding with a sigh...except I never make it.

-----

You noticed him. It was hard not to with his wild hair, and his chocolate-button eyes, and his frantic charisma. He definitely had a style, you had to give him that; a leather jacket laced with chains and a jean vest over the top, littered with patches and pins. He must be burning up in that get up. You thought, grinning slyly to yourself. Your horny touch-starved brain couldn't stop fantasizing about the possibility of getting him out of it. Down girl, you scolded yourself. You don't even know him and you're not a groupie. He's probably got a hoard of local girls waiting for him.

As the lights switched to the flashing pulses of the dance floor and the familiar tempo of Nine Inch Nails pounded out of the speaker, you slide off your stool. The local alternative folks didn't waste any time swarming the dance floor, so neither did you. You could be shy, it's true, but not about this...not about dancing. You knew how to move your body; how to slink, and tease, and flirt wordlessly in those heels like it was the easiest thing in the world. You liked this alter ego when she came out to play.

A few songs in, you saw a curly mop of hair and dark eyes making a beeline towards you in the flashing lights. It took a moment for you to realize it was the guitarist. Onstage he seemed almost burly under all those layers. Now in black jeans and a tee shirt he seemed slight and lanky, beautiful and borderline ethereal. Coming right up to you, he beamed a stunning smile that lifted the apples of his full cheeks and gave a little nod. He was silently imploring you, with those puppy dog eyes, for a dance. You giggled and nodded back with a smile. Under the loud thrum of the music you wouldn't be able to hear each other anyway, and you liked that. As an introvert, it was nice to not be obliged to speak and make small talk. It was a relief to simply connect in a different way...a way you were actually confident in.

You expected him to simply grind on you arrhythmically, the way so many guys tend to (thinking for some reason, that they're dancing and it's sexy), but he didn't. He was almost courtly, holding your hand and spinning your around, swaying close enough for you to smell his aftershave and the metallic tang of his metal and leather; to feel his broad palm against the small of your back. The nearness gave you an up-close view of those engulfing black-coffee eyes, but he never groped or grinded on you, respecting your space. You caught those dark orbs scanning hungrily up your legs, or glancing at your cleavage, but he was clearly trying to resist acting like an animal. You couldn't blame him for looking though, you were trying to get him to notice your best assets, after all.

In the quiet space between songs, when the DJ's switched out, you got on your toes, bracing on his shoulder to say into his ear, “What's your name?”. Even that small touch, sent electricity to you, buzzing from the heat of his skin, the feel of his body under your hand.

Eddie knew he was a goner when you did that. It was too cute. Your little sweet-smelling body pressed against him, up on your toes and lips grazing his ear in a way that gave him shivers. He slid his hand around your waist, pulling you close enough to hear him. There was a confidence to the way he guided you closer before his full lips grazed the skin just under your ear. He spoke his name softly. “Eddie Munson...at your service”.

You stepped away just enough to meet each others eyes and smile as you told him your name. He repeated it as if he were tasting the syllables, considering their flavor, then said, “That's a beautiful name. Thank you for the dance.” Eddie took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, looking up at you from beneath those thick dark lashes. It undid you and you couldn't resist asking the question that'd been screaming in your head all night.

“Wanna come over to my place?”

The smile he gave you was so bright it could light up a whole stadium. Eddie Munson felt like he just won the lottery.

-----

Entering your apartment was a challenge with his lips glued to yours and his tongue dancing in your mouth. Your hands were equally reluctant to part from feeling each others bodies long enough to unlock the door and fling yourselves inside your living room. The door slammed shut and you slammed against it while the keys clattered, forgotten, to the floor. You slid his jackets off, enjoying the feeling of his frame through the soft cotton of his tee shirt instead. His hands traveled along the curve of your waist, cradled your cheeks, stroked your hair, and he moaned. And god, it was such a sweet sound coming from such a sweet mouth. It charmed you, how he resisted carelessly groping you like a horny teenager. He was careful and considerate, bordering on hesitant. Was...was he nervous?

You separated for a moment, both of you catching your breath. You giggled and swiped away some of your lipstick where it had smeared over his face. He laughed too, asking sarcastically, “Am I pretty now?” with a dopey grin that made both of you crack up for a second.

“So fucking pretty, Eddie,” you said sincerely, and a red flush appeared across his cheeks that had nothing to do with the lipstick.

“Not...not as pretty as you are...baby.” he said, then winced and muttered to himself at the corny line. He meant it, but the delivery made it fall flat and he suddenly looked like a deer in headlights. “Uh...sorry...that was stupid.” He said pathetically, “please...don't run away,” realizing a half second too late that it was, in fact, your house and you literally couldn't.

You giggled again, but it was clearly kind and sweet, more with him than at him. You winked and said, “Promise I won't. I'm just going to the sink to help clean you up.”

He watched as you kicked off your heels and sashayed into the kitchen. Eddie studied every succulent move as you found a clean cloth, waited for the tap to get warm and lathered a little soap into it; everything deliberate and graceful. He looked on, mesmerized, as you came back to him, hips swaying and eyes shining. You dabbed the warm cloth over his plush pretty cheeks, his full lips, and then over your own.

“You are soooo sweet, honey. You know that? Just something about you. Goddamn,” he said. And you could tell it wasn't just a line. He meant it with all his heart, and it warmed yours.

You glanced down at his chest a little shyly, blushing. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” You were joking but he put his hands up, eyes wide with sudden panic.

Animated, he muttered, “No! No no. Uh no no no. Um...there aren't other girls...or guys. I'm not gay...or bi or....”. He shook his head and his curls wiggled with him, like a dog shaking off water, as he was growing increasingly annoyed with himself. “Not that that matters! Well...actually I guess in this case it sort of matters,” he rambled on, squinting quizzically. You listened sweetly and patiently, genuinely charmed by his awkwardness. Who'd have thought that this charismatic guitar god on stage would be such a squirrely little nerd otherwise? You were enamored all the more by it, but he couldn't know that. He was still terrified. You covered your mouth with your hand as you chuckled, genuinely extremely amused and interested, trying not to full-out guffaw at how funny he was.

The dam finally broke when you saw his tee shirt. Without your heels you were now eye level with his chest and noticing the design for the first time. It was a dragon snaked around a castle; the kind of thing one might see airbrushed on the side of a van. Additionally, Eddie clearly wasn't some hipster wearing it ironically which made it even better. He was just some guy...who liked dragons.

You chuckled explosively now. The awkwardness becoming far too much and bursting at the seams. Before you knew it, you were both crying with laughter, falling all over each other as you dragged him to the bedroom by his stupid little shirt saying, “you are such a little dork, and I love it.”

He gave a dimpled grin, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, handsome,” you said in a breathy whisper right into his ear, “it makes me what to do bad things to you.”

The sentence went strait to Eddie's already stiff cock as he followed you like a zombie under a witch's spell. You ran your nails under his shirt, thumbs meeting at the little trail of hair above his belt. Then your palms traveled up his chest, sliding his shirt off. You slinked you long nails over the warm bare skin of his torso, tracing the ink of his tattoos while he closed his eyes and groaned, goosebumps shivering over his skin.

“That is some witchcraft you're doing to me, sweetheart. God...can I touch you?”

You smiled, feeling drunk with arousal. “I've been waiting for that all night. Please, don't make me wait anymore,” you said, almost begging and pouting. You shoved him backwards onto your bed, forgetting it was still strewn with clothes. Realizing this, Eddie shot back up and said, “Oh sorry...let me just,” scooping up the pile and setting it gently into a chair. You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at the sudden act. Clocking your confusion, he explained, resting his hands on his hips, “I just...I just didn't want to make a mess on your clothes”.

This time you pulled him to you by the belt, deciding to go straight to the nuclear option, saying breathily, “Eddie Munson, right now I wouldn't care if you come all over every single item of clothes I own, as long as you fuck me into that mattress.”

To emphasize your point, you pulled your dress over your head, revealing the red and black lingerie matching your thigh-highs. You put one perfectly manicured nail to his lips and continued. “Listen to me. I've never even gotten a chance to wear this lingerie before. It's been almost a year and a half since...you know. And right now...” you dropped to a whisper as you began to undo his belt, the chains jostling heavily in your fingers. “These sweet little lace panties are absolutely soaked because of how badly I want you. If they get absolutely trashed and don't survive til morning because of you, I'll be the happiest girl in the world.”

He groaned and sighed, relaxing, finally. He laced his fingers into your hair and pulled lightly while he slid one calloused finger between the smooth dripping lips of your pussy. You gasped at the contact, then purred at him, “Mmm. Atta boy.”

“Fuck...you're so hot,” he groaned, head dropping right between your tits and lapping, savoring the salt of your skin. His fingers worked at your bra clasps, gently at first and then losing patience and yanking it down to bare your tits to him.

You yelped in happy surprise, unhooking the garment properly and letting it fall to the floor. He latched greedily onto your nipple, sucking and swirling around first one and then the other until he got exactly the sounds he wanted from you, the sounds that made his cock strain harder against the fabric. You helped him shed his layers, then drank in the sight of him completely naked.

You gasped, “God, you're gorgeous, Eddie.”

He came up close, pulling your hips against him with the other hand buried in your hair. He licked his hot tongue up your jugular vein, ending with a kiss behind your ear and whispered, delivering the line again with a new confidence, “Not as pretty as you are, baby. Now put those little red heels back on and get rid of those panties.”

@veemoon @elegantkoalapaper @sweetsigyn @sunflowerdaydreamer @leelei1980 @little-wormwood @hellfirenacht @unfocused81